


First Sight

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Darcy Lewis Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love at First Sight, Soul Stone (Marvel), Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: Prompt: Rebuilding Avengers HQ on a new site, and they get Jane to help with some of the science bits. Darcy comes with her. Bucky’s is smitten on first sight and of course Steve and Sam are stuck between lightly teasing him and trying to get him to at least talk to her.





	1. Part One: Don't encourage her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SebastianStanIsMySmallBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SebastianStanIsMySmallBean/gifts).



> **Turn back now if you have not seen Avengers: Endgame. This fic will be rampant with spoilers.** I got a prompt from jessybird on Tumblr which was _Just a little something I would love to see - ‘Rebuilding Avengers HQ on a new site, and they get Jane to help with some of the science bits. Darcy comes with her. Bucky’s is smitten on first sight and of course Steve and Sam are stuck between lightly teasing him and trying to get him to at least talk to her.’ I love me some smut so go wild_ 😉😉😉. Thank you for the awesome prompt! I'm making this a fic with multiple chapters so I don't go overboard with a one-shot. I think I'll be working with several different parts to this storyline, not just solely Bucky falling for Darcy. Obviously, post-Endgame EVERYONE is going through it so this will be angsty to some extent.

_You're my number one_  
_You're the one I want_

\- "Geyser" by Mitski

 

 

**Part One: Don't encourage her**

 

 

Bucky stands among the pile of rubble, letting out a long breath with his hands in his jacket pockets.

Since they defeated Thanos, they’ve had to rebuild, and part of the process is rebuilding the Avengers Facility. All Bucky can smell is ash and mud, and Sam lets out a sigh from his spot beside Steve.

“My room can be here,” Bucky says, circling his gloved hand for a second before shoving it back into his jacket.

“Jacuzzi?” Sam says, and Bucky nods.

“Master bathroom, somewhere…”

Bucky takes a couple steps. He glances up to meet Steve’s gaze. His friend just raises an eyebrow.

“Here.”

“Nice,” Steve replies. He glances at the sky for a second, sighing.

He’s been doing that a lot lately. Bucky wishes there was something he could do.

“What can we do, today?” Bucky asks, and Steve thinks for a second.

“Some… old friends are moving up. They were gone, before,” Steve says. “They’ll be working with Banner with R&D.”

“Who?” Sam asks.

“Thor’s girl. Or, she was,” Steve says. “Jane Foster. She was working on researching the Bifrost for years, she was nominated for a Nobel Prize. We could have used her.”

Thank God for the Quantum Realm. Bucky thinks about that every day, that they may not have ever come back if Scott Lang was dusted like everyone else. Thinking about the what-ifs for too long is no longer a good idea. Bucky knows Steve constantly wrestles with the what-ifs.

“Stark recommended her?” Bucky asks, quiet.

“Yeah. And her assistant, who’s apparently a pain in the ass.”

“To Tony?” Sam asks, and Steve nods.

Everyone mentions Stark, all the time. It’s unavoidable. His funeral was last month, and then everyone took a break. It was never discussed, but suddenly everyone was going away and taking the time to process the last battle.

Bucky’s eyes rest on his shoe. He will never have a chance to right his wrongs with Stark. He saw Morgan at the funeral, which made his heart heavy. Bucky doesn’t want to spiral so he brings himself back, listening to Sam and Steve.

“We could help pack their equipment in one of the shipping containers,” Sam says, and Bucky nods.

They walk away from the black earth that covers what remained of the original compound, and Bucky sees a truck pulling up. It’s beaten up, and he can make out two people in the front of it.

“That her?” Sam asks, and Steve nods. “What are their names again?”

“Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis,” Steve says softly, crossing his arms as the three men stand together.

“I need to… start writing people’s names down,” Sam mutters. “Too many names to remember, man. And with like a system to know their powers.”

“ _They_ don’t have any powers.”

When the two women open the doors of the truck to jump down, Bucky instantly disagrees with Steve. His eyes are drawn to the brunette, who wears a pair of glasses and a maroon beanie, a thick flannel shirt tied at her middle, her leggings accentuating her curves.

Bucky’s nostrils flare and his eyes go wide for a second before he tries his hardest to tamper it down, but Sam already notices.

“Damn. _Barnes_.”

“Shut up,” he hisses. His feels his cheeks flush.

This hasn’t happened in years. He actually has no idea when it last happened, probably when he was a teenager experiencing all those new hormones, his testosterone in overdrive.

Jane and Darcy walk up to them, and they’re really short. Like, tiny. But fierce.

“You got a place we can put our shit?” Darcy asks Steve, instead of opening with a greeting or any sense of propriety.

Bucky wants to tackle her for that alone, and the thought is overwhelming to him. He has no idea where this is coming from. He looks at the ground before he gives himself away.

“Over there,” Steve says, pointing to one of the shipping containers they had Rocket fetch with Nebula in his ship.

“Thanks,” Darcy says.

“I’m Jane,” Jane Foster says, and she takes Steve’s hand to shake it.

“I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Darcy interjects, and she’s walking back to the truck.

Bucky’s eyes fall to her ass and he closes his eyes for a second.

 _Oh, no_. He wants to bite it, and he’s disgusted with himself for the sudden urge. He grits his teeth.

“Don’t mind her. She’s just… Darcy,” Jane says.

Darcy’s opening the back of the truck, and she calls out:

“You dumbasses gonna help, or are those muscles for show?”

Sam snorts, and Bucky feels himself smile. Steve just takes a deep breath and replies:

“Doll, you’d be surprised.”

Her head reappears for a second, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Don’t… engage. It just encourages her,” Jane mutters.

“I heard that!”

Bucky feels excited, and wonders what to do with these new feelings. If he can call them that. Maybe it’s just lust and it’s been too long.

He and Sam walk over to the end of the truck, and Darcy’s standing inside it with her hands on her hips.

“Hey,” she says, flashing a smile down at them.

Fuck, she’s adorable. She has a gap between her front teeth and Sam returns her smile easily.

“Hey, yourself,” Sam replies.

Bucky doesn’t reply, feeling self-conscious. Apparently he longer remembers how to talk.

“He’s quiet,” Darcy says, nodding at Bucky before her gaze lands back on Sam.

“Yeah, don’t mind him.”

Bucky frowns and Darcy starts to laugh. She turns away and Sam watches Bucky watch her, grabbing his shoulder to spur him on.

“ _Stop_ ,” Bucky hisses.

Darcy picks up a box, grunting with the effort and moves back toward them, handing it to Bucky. She gestures to a couple filing cabinets.

“Steve and I will get it,” Sam says. He nudges Bucky, who shoots him a glare. “Go show Darcy where the container is.”

“That’s okay,” Darcy says. “I can find it.”

“No, _he wants to help_ ,” Sam insists, and Bucky grits his teeth again.

Darcy shrugs. She hops out of the truck, and Bucky feels his heartrate pick up when she looks at him expectantly. Bucky looks toward the container in the distance and starts walking with the box in his hand.

He used to be a goat farmer. At least then he didn’t have to worry about looking like an idiot in front of a beautiful girl. At least the goats didn’t tease him.

He misses those goats. Maybe he should get a couple from Wakanda and retire from having any kind of social life.

He knows he’s being dramatic but he’s almost in panic mode all of a sudden, walking Darcy to the shipping container. He shoves the door with his shoulder easily and Darcy stares at his strength, and he can almost see the thoughts forming in her mind.

“Were you here, for the battle?” Darcy asks. Her voice echoes inside the container along with their footsteps.

Bucky puts down the box and looks at her, nodding.

She blinks at him a couple times, waiting for an explanation.

“You were dusted, right?” she asks, and he nods.

She has no idea who he is. It’s somewhat liberating, except he wants to get to know her. He wants her to smile at him and be around him longer than this, but doing that means telling her the truth.

“I feel like…” she murmurs, and Bucky meets her gaze. “I feel like I know you.”

Bucky blinks at her.

“I feel like I know you, too.”

Jane ducks inside the container with a computer monitor in her skinny arms, placing it on the floor. Sam and Steve follow her in, carrying the two filing cabinets.

His moment with Darcy is over. The two women start to whisper and he ducks out, hearing Jane at the last minute blurt:

“Don’t you know who he is?”

His heart sinks and he walks back to the truck, trying to push it away, let it go. It was only a matter of time. He glances at Darcy for a second as they keep moving stuff out of the truck, and her whole demeanour has changed, she seems less carefree.

Later that day when they’re finishing up, Steve catches his eye for a second and deflates a little for him. Frankly, Bucky is sick of being the person Steve worries about all the time.

“Don’t,” Bucky says, cutting off whatever his oldest friend was about to say.

Darcy and Jane are sitting together on some milk crates next to their shipping container and he lets out a sigh.

Today has just been full of his own foolishness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I feel as though Sam makes a very valid point about trying to remember all the different names of the entire MCU franchise. I get too impatient with people in my life about it, especially when I yell "HER NAME IS NEBULA" when someone says "I can't remember the purple and blue girl's name".


	2. Part Two: Don't follow her

_'Cause you're such a dream (does this end?)_   
_If you can believe, you're such a dream to me_

\- "R.E.M." by Ariana Grande

 

 

**Part Two: Don't follow her**

 

 

Bucky’s dreaming.

He doesn’t see himself, or his own body, just flashes of images, sounds. There’s the feeling of steam all around, a hand on a shower door. A finger running through the condensation on the glass, drawing a heart. There’s a gasp, a woman.

Bucky jolts awake, squinting in the dark as reality sets in. He’s in a bed in a hotel room, several miles away from the wreckage of the Avengers Facility. He rubs his face with his flesh hand, remembering his vibranium arm is tucked away for the night. He struggles to fall back to sleep.

He has the same dream three nights in a row, and on the third morning after it he wakes up with his cock ramrod straight and he figures his body is telling him to do something about Darcy. It’s not as if Sam or Steve haven’t been doing the same already.

He hasn’t quite got over the moment Darcy first arrived with Jane, and he looks for her every day. She’s easy to spot, but maybe it’s just because he’s searching. She usually is sitting aside somewhere on her phone or laptop, and often enough she’s alone.

By the time he convinces himself to ask her out he remembers Jane in the shipping container:

_Don’t you know who he is?_

And then Bucky pushes down that urge to reach out because he’s not an idiot. Darcy’s probably heard more than enough about him in those few days to render him emotionally unavailable, or just a poor choice for a date, Bucky can’t decide which.

It turns out he can’t avoid her, because she shows up every so often in search for someone or something.

“Where’s Banner?” she asks Sam, and Bucky’s standing next to him, his eyes on the ground.

She sounds out of breath. Since they moved their stuff into the shipping container, she and Jane have been running around trying to accumulate enough resources as humanly possible. The sound of her panting makes Bucky instantly think of his sexy shower dream. He gets that weird feeling again like he knew how she’d sound, but it doesn’t make sense.

Did he somehow run into her as The Winter Soldier? Surely he would have remembered her, with her heart-shaped ass and kilowatt smile.

“He’s with Wanda, moving stuff,” Sam replies. He nudges Bucky no-so subtly. “ _He_ can take you.”

“No, I’ll find my own way,” Darcy replies, but she doesn’t say this hastily.

Bucky looks up from the ground and meets her eyes by accident.

“He can tag along if he wants.”

Bucky blushes, eyes going slightly wider and Darcy turns on her heels, walking off. His eyes follow her and Sam nudges him again.

“Don’t.”

“Come on, how is that not an invitation?” Sam hisses, and Bucky shakes his head.

“She’s really cute.”

“Exactly, so _go_!”

Bucky balls his metal fist and Sam just raises his eyebrows.

“Or not. Be a monk.”

“It’s not about that,” Bucky retorts instantly. “She scares the shit outta me, alright?”

They fall silent, and Sam sighs.

“Shit, if _that’s_ the way to get to you –”

Bucky cuts him off with a sharp look. “Thought we were here to help out, not talk about my bullshit for once.”

Darcy is still walking away in the distance, and he focuses on her retreating back, the way her hips sway. Sam is watching Bucky, frowning.

“Steve said we have to talk to the others.”

“The other -?”

“Avengers.”

Bucky wants to mention he’s not one of them, he never has been, but it’s not worth starting that argument again. Steve is already up to his eyeballs with trying to move on, trying to get everyone else to heal and work together again, to understand the different dynamics of the team.

“About The Stones?”

Sam nods. “He’s gonna do it.”

This was the first Bucky was hearing about it. That usually meant Steve was meaning to shoulder the responsibility. Bucky feels his throat tighten at the thought, like he always does.

He blinks, feeling his face slacken with resignation.

“Alone?”

Sam nods. “But we gotta work it out together. He wants a meeting.”

Bucky nods, closing his eyes for a second. He doesn’t know how it feels to be Steve. He spent five years dealing with everyone gone, when Bucky didn’t have any time missed at all.

-

Banner makes it clear that The Stones have to be returned to a precise location, exactly before they were originally taken.

Steve volunteers, because he’s Steve. He thinks of him swinging Mjolnir. Bucky’s heart is heavy but he knows Steve will want to do it alone.

He definitely doesn’t buy Steve following each of Banner’s instructions.

-

Shipping containers mean a lot of opportunities to run into people, and Bucky’s surprised it takes Darcy a week to nearly walk into him when she’s getting coffee.

She smiles at him and he freezes up, thinking of her saying that thing about him tagging after her. He knows then that he would if she’d have him.

The thought is equally strong as it is strange and Bucky knows it doesn’t make sense, not really.

“We might be heading back to the city for a few days,” she says, and he nods.

“I heard.”

She nods in return, sipping her drink. He’s sitting at the rickety IKEA table he and Sam put together for people taking breaks in between working.

“I gotta ask,” she begins, and she sits down beside him, placing her coffee on the table and crossing her arms.

Bucky levels her gaze as cautiously as possible and he nods for her to continue.

“Where were you when you dusted?”

“Wakanda,” he replies.

“You were there a while.”

“Two years,” he says.

He pictures sitting at a table with her. He can think of the smells of another coffee, a Colombian blend. The orange sunrise is coming through the kitchen window. He pictures all this so vividly he rubs his eyes for a second.

“You spacing out?”

“A little,” he admits.

He doesn’t realise he’s smiling until she flashes her own.

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately. So does Peter.”

“Parker?” Bucky asks, and she nods.

That kid. Bucky knows Parker is still very young but he’s been through so much already. Losing Stark meant losing another parental figure, and Bucky heard about how he lived with his aunt in Queens.

“I want to look after that kid,” she murmurs. “I’m gonna visit him tomorrow.”

Bucky nods, swallowing down some difficult emotion he can’t name. She’s so right – he’s spacing out and he needs to snap out of it.

Steve’s going to take The Stones back tomorrow. Bucky has to be sharp, ready.

“You okay?” Darcy murmurs.

Her hand comes down to rest on the table, close to his. She’s hesitating and in a way he’s glad, because if she touches him without warning he’ll freak out.

She scares him and he can’t say why. He wants to kiss her even though she’s a stranger. He wants to tell her he’s fine but the second he looks at her in the eye again, he shakes his head.

“I – I have to convince Steve a lot of things tonight,” he says, and her lips part, her face changing to outright concern.

“I… can’t know what you mean, I’m guessing,” she murmurs, and he shakes his head.

He laughs wryly. “Sorry, doll. I don’t know where to begin, is all.”

“Try me.”

Bucky pauses, wondering if she means it. Of course she does, because she doesn’t seem too scared, seems very understanding.

“He’s taken care of me a while, he feels responsible for me,” Bucky says, eyes traveling to her steaming cup of coffee, seeing the vapors rise toward the ceiling of the shipping container. “He’s had a long time to… try and move on. I don’t think he can.”

He gives a little shrug.

“He hasn’t lived.”

Darcy scoffs for a second. “He’s saved the world, so many times. He went into space, he is worthy –”

She stops herself when she meets his gaze again. He shakes his head again.

“Darcy, he hasn’t _lived_.”

“You think he’s going to use The Stones,” she murmurs.

Bucky nods. “And he’s gonna ask me to come with him. Not for him, but for me.”

Something passes over her face, something like hurt. Her emotions are only just beneath the surface. She blinks rapidly, frowning.

“You’re not going to?”

Bucky swallows. “No.”

“But you know I could jeopardise that by telling everyone else Steve’s plan?”

He nods. “But I trust you. Or maybe I’m just stupid.”

She blinks, before giving a laugh that makes his stomach flip, and he flashes just a hint of a smile back at her. They fall into silence and Darcy stares at the table, shaking her head.

“I know him, and I know myself,” Bucky murmurs, and her eyes snap up to his. To Bucky’s surprise, her big blue eyes are glassy. “At least, I know _enough_ about myself.”

Sometimes it’s like his brain is a mush, mangled by trauma and trying to make new memories can be so painful that he gets transported back to Siberia, back to the war. Sitting with Darcy now, though confusing as it is, somehow makes things easier.

He sees things clearer.

He gets up before she has a chance to reply to any of that, and he goes to find Steve.

They should really talk.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've already hit you with a lot of angst but... it's going to be okay.
> 
> P.S. If you've got any theories about this story, the song "bury a friend" by Billie Eilish might clear some things up.
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	3. Part Three: Don't talk to her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I know I haven't updated this for months. I debated what direction I was going to go with this for literally weeks until I decided to go with my heart rather than my head. Enjoy!  
> Edit: [I got an ask yesterday](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/186883839613/how-was-nat-done-dirty-shes-getting-her-own) I can't stop thinking about it

_Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time_  
_I can't read you but, if you want, the pleasure's all mine_  
_Can you see me using everything to hold back?_  
_I guess this could be worse_  
_Walking out the door with your bags_

\- "Bags" by Clairo

 

 

**Part Three: Don't talk to her**

 

 

“You’re going to use the Time Stone to see Peggy.”

Bucky comes out with it, and if someone didn’t know him they might think he only thought of it now, but Steve knows him best so he doesn’t appear to be surprised at all.

They’re sitting together in front of the small fire Steve built earlier, both of them drinking beers and watching the embers smoulder. After he left Darcy before, Bucky couldn’t find Steve. Instead, he went to help Sam move equipment. His mind was elsewhere the entire time, and luckily Sam didn’t mention it. He only asked about Darcy and if he’d made any progress.

“She’s leavin’ for Queens tomorrow. She’s checkin’ on the Parker kid,” Bucky says, and Sam’s eyebrows hike.

“Oh. So you should invite yourself to go with her. Drive her there or somethin’.”

Bucky gives him a blank stare, wondering how Sam ever thought he could persuade him to do such a thing, because it’s so obvious. It was never something Bucky would do. Calling him shy is an understatement.

“Or not,” Sam says. “Or I could offer your services for you.”

Bucky doesn’t have to think about that. Needing Sam to talk to Darcy for him is so embarrassing he shoots him a glare, shaking his head. Sam then sighs.

Steve was gone all day, only returning after dark with his eyes unfocused. He used to get the same look in his eye when everyone but him was enlisting all those years ago. He was burdened with his thoughts, and his eyes snap up to meet Bucky’s now, the fire reflecting in his gaze.

“Yeah.”

“That’ll undo a lot of things, right?” Bucky says.

He had some idea what Banner meant by timelines and the irreparable damage meddling could cause. Bucky knew Steve was no fool, but he wanted to hear his friend say it, his justification for doing so much.

“I would have to stay away from major historical events. Keep my nose out of things,” Steve murmurs, a small smile playing on his lips.

“That’s not like you, punk,” Bucky says, and Steve quirks an eyebrow.

“No.”

They fall silent, Bucky’s hands running through his hair. He swallows a couple times.

“I told Darcy,” he says, and Steve’s eyes widen a fraction.

“The… science girl?”

He doesn’t trick Bucky even for a second. Steve knows everyone’s names, and he’s probably learned more about Darcy from observing her than he’d ever let on. He’s not a spy but he’s attentive as hell, and he has an eidetic memory.

Bucky tilts his head for a second and then Steve smiles again.

“You told Darcy because you trust her.”

“Or I’m just stupid.”

“Could be both,” Steve counters. “Those things ain’t mutually exclusive.”

Bucky picks up his beer bottle, shrugging. He takes a sip as Steve watches him. His smile fades because he knows he has to get this out now while he can.

“You’re gonna go back to Peggy,” Bucky says, and Steve nods. “Was I supposed to act surprised or somethin’?”

“I dunno,” Steve replies, rubbing his eyes. “I spent five years tryin’ to move on. But… I swear I was different before Tony and I went back to 1970.”

Bucky nods.

“When I saw her, it was – it felt good. Felt like one of those things I told Nat about. Except…”

“If you go back to Peggy you have to pretend you don’t exist,” Bucky cuts in, and Steve nods. “You have to sit by while… I’m with HYDRA.”

“That’s if I go alone,” Steve says.

Bucky finishes off his beer, waiting.

“You won’t go with me.”

“No,” Bucky says. His voice is barely a whisper. “I’ve had a little while to think about it.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Steve replies instantly. “But I wanted to give you the chance.”

“I’ve gotta live with this,” he adds, and Steve nods.

-

The next morning Darcy is walking toward him with car keys in one hand, her smile dimmer than it was the last time he saw her.

He feels self-conscious but he’s too preoccupied with his thoughts of Steve. He has no idea whether he’ll return, and if he does, he doesn’t know how he will appear. Bucky swore to not say a word to Sam or the others. When he left Steve last night for bed, he hugged him, telling him it was his decision to make.

“I’m going,” she says, and he nods.

He returns a small smile. In truth, his stomach is twisting with anxiety.

She looks so beautiful even this early in the morning, her face bare of makeup, her hair a mess. They stand a few feet apart from each other, and Bucky can make out the sounds of people moving equipment around in the shipping containers.

He thought of so many things to say. He still doesn’t know why he cares this much for someone he hardly knows. He wants to wish her safe travels. He wants to tell her he’s sorry for leaning too much on her yesterday. He wants to tell her that he thinks they knew each other somewhere else though it’s impossible.

“Okay, I’ll see you when I see you,” she murmurs, and he nods.

She turns her heel, and he hesitates before speaking.

“Hey.”

She turns her head and Bucky’s eyes widen.

“I – I’ll miss you,” he says, and his face flushes.

A beat.

“Okay.”

She leaves and Bucky closes his eyes, sighing.

When he sees Sam a few minutes later, he’s got that annoying look on his face, the one he has reserved for being way too invested in Bucky’s business.

“Darcy was looking for you before. She find you?”

Bucky grunts, saying nothing.

“It went that bad, huh?”

Bucky thinks about punching Sam in the face, and then he remembers Steve all over again, and he drops his shoulders, feeling like an idiot. His priorities are completely out of whack and Darcy is the perfect distraction.

-

“Gonna miss you, buddy.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Buck.”

Bucky walks away when Banner fails to bring Steve back. Sam begins to panic, and Bucky feels something turn over in his heart. He needs to be happy for Steve either way, because no matter what, that punk was always going to do exactly what he wanted, damn the consequences.

Bucky hears the whir of the teleporter and he turns his head to see Steve standing there with his shield, looking more or less the same age, and he’s not alone.

“Natasha,” Bucky says, his eyes widening.

Banner looks like he could faint, and Sam’s grinning at them both. Bucky’s too stunned to move, but he manages to, running back to them.

Natasha hugs Sam and turns to Bucky.

“Steve did a round trip,” she says.

“What about Peggy?” Bucky asked, and Sam shoots him a look.

“I knew you knew something was up!”

Sam is ignored as Steve answers:

“I got my dance.”

Bucky gives a laugh of surprise that Sam copies, and then ignoring all his usual fears, he tugs Natasha toward him in a hug. Happy tears are falling from Natasha’s eyes when he moves back, and then Banner lifts her up, laughing.

 

 

 


	4. Part Four: Don't dream about her

_Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams_

\- "Wildest Dreams" by Taylor Swift

 

 

**Part Four: Don't dream about her**

 

 

“So, what about Tony?”

Banner asks this as they all sit around in the dirt, every Avenger still on Earth. Steve is standing with his arms crossed, his jaw tense. Natasha sits by his side, her long braid moving in the wind. She’s glowing, and Bucky wonders what makes her skin seem that way. Most likely it’s him noticing her beauty and strength having more value because she’s suddenly back again, very much alive.

Clint told Steve who told the others what Natasha looked like when she was dead – a halo of red blood on the rocks beneath the cliff she jumped off of on Vormir.

But what about Tony Stark? Will they ever look upon his face again?

“No,” Steve says, his voice softer than before.

Bucky looks at the grass beneath his feet. It turns out he was hoping alongside the others and he hadn’t realized it. Stark was gone forever.

“Why not?” Banner asks, sounding a little curt. Bucky knows he adored Stark. “You brought back Nat, so why not Tony, too?”

“We tried that,” Natasha says. “We tried every possible scenario and it always turned out the wrong way. Time’s not something we can use anymore.”

“How long were you two together before you came back?” Wanda asks.

“A few years,” Steve says. Bucky knows that tone of voice – he’s keeping a secret. It doesn’t really matter much to Bucky whatever those two got up to. He’s glad they’re both back in one piece, and Steve seems less burdened.

“But no Tony?” Banner says, and Steve frowns.

“You know it doesn’t work that way, Bruce,” he replies. “You of all people know how experiments can backfire.”

Steve isn’t saying this to be an asshole, or make an example out of Banner. The professor spent years experimenting on himself, and Steve’s only mentioning it because he knows how many times Banner failed.

“You guys go anywhere interesting?” Sam asks to break the tension, and Natasha gives a little smile, the same cryptic one Steve flashed earlier.

“Yeah.”

-

The Parker kid comes running up to Sam and Bucky the following afternoon, Darcy walking several yards behind him.

“Black Widow’s back?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, and Parker keeps running.

Bucky feels his stomach flip when Darcy reaches them, that subdued smile on her face.

“Good trip?” Sam asks, and Darcy’s eyebrows hike.

“Yeah. Except he wouldn’t stop talking about Steve using The Stones when we got the news about Natasha,” Darcy says.

Bucky recognizes her tone – parental concern. The three of them fall silent as Parker runs toward the other shipping containers. Steve was meant to be taking it easy – so naturally he was back to taking charge of everyone. According to Natasha, he’d technically had a vacation, everyone else needed to remember that.

“Steve came back,” Darcy says, and Bucky turns his head toward her. She’s talking to him, not Sam.

“Yeah.”

“You must be relieved.”

“I… guess so,” Bucky manages to reply.

It’s not really about what he wants or needs. Steve had years alone, trying to heal. Bucky was in the same boat as so many others – trying to catch up. If he’d not dusted with Sam, would he have gone back in time with Steve and stayed?

Bucky thinks about that too much. He needs to stop thinking about The Stones, because they’re gone now.

“He asked about Tony Stark,” Darcy goes on, and Bucky exchanges a look with Sam.

“They tried,” Sam says. “Natasha and Steve, I mean. They said every possibility didn’t work out, and they couldn’t do too much damage. Banner said The Ancient One –”

Darcy cuts him off, raising one hand. “Yeah, yeah, I got the memo. Someone needs to tell Peter that, too, because he’s convinced he can go back.”

“He _can’t_ ,” Bucky says, the words out before he can stop himself.

“I tried telling him that!” Darcy says, her voice sharp. “I’d like to talk to The Ancient One sometime soon, ask them who the hell they think they are, telling us what we can and can’t do with those Stones –”

Her cheeks go red and she snaps her mouth shut abruptly, clearing her throat.

“Sorry. I just – sorry.”

She stalks off, Sam and Bucky staring after her. Before Sam can get a word in, Bucky glares at him.

“Don’t.”

-

It’s the shower dream again. At least, it starts off that way, and then Bucky feels fresh linen around him, the sun on his bare skin. He can smell the scent of human musk – sweat and arousal.

There’s the soft chuckle of someone beside him in bed, and he lifts his off a pillow to look down at her.

 _Her_. Darcy.

Bucky wakes with a start, flexing his flesh hand, remembering where he is. He licks his lips and tastes nothing, but the memory of the scent lingers and he sighs, his hand passing over his face.

-

He overhears Darcy and Parker arguing as he makes his way to the shipping containers a few hours later, when he tells himself he needs to get some coffee into him and forget his dreams.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s his hearing again.

“Nebula killed her past self.”

“Are you really using _Nebula_ as a reason to try and travel back in time?” Darcy snaps.

Bucky ducks inside, seeing the two of them sitting at the table.

“Hey, Mister – I mean, Sargent Barnes,” Parker babbles, as Darcy’s eyes are focusing on her mug in front of her. “What’s up?”

“Coffee on?” Bucky says to Darcy and she nods vaguely.

He goes to get a mug and fill it up. When he touches the cupboard he feels the warm of sunlight on his skin.

He’s zoned out again. He’s imagining a warm, sunny afternoon. He turns back to Parker and Darcy and sees them smiling together. He can hear seagulls in the distance, and if he concentrates, he can hear the ocean, too.

“Bucky?”

Darcy pulls him back from his reverie, and he glances down, seeing the coffee spilling onto the floor. He poured too much, or maybe he never stopped pouring. He can’t remember.

Since when was the Parker kid part of those fantasies? He didn’t know him at all. He stepped back from the puddle he’d made and put his mug in the sink, while Darcy stood up to grab paper towels to mop it up.

“I…”

“You’re a space cadet,” Darcy replies simply, and he can see she’s trying to make it easier for him so he doesn’t have to explain to Parker.

Parker sits forward in his chair, leaning to look down at Darcy and Bucky cleaning up on the floor.

“We… haven’t met before, right?” he says, and Bucky glances up at him. “I mean, before the – the battle?”

“No,” Bucky says, his voice rough.

He thinks of Parker sobbing as Stark lay on the ground, Pepper Potts’ forehead pressing into his blank face. Bucky tastes bile. He looks to Darcy, and he can see right down her front, the bright purple bra cups like a magnet for his eyes.

He’s a mess. His mind goes where it shouldn’t, wondering what she looks like underneath it all, and he feels shame. And yet –

He knows already what she looks like. He can’t explain that.

He gets up, tossing the paper towel wads into the garbage can, keeping his eyes away from her in case his mind takes off again. He can feel their eyes on him and he tampers it down, the fear of being seen. They’ve already seen him be a clumsy schmuck, so it could be worse.

“You might have seen him in one of your history textbooks,” Darcy says, keeping her eyes on Bucky instead of Parker.

“Nah, it feels different. Maybe it’s – I mean, my aunt May calls it – uh, not that I approve of it or whatever, it’s lame, but my senses and –”

“What?” Darcy snaps. “Slow down.”

“How did you guys meet, anyway?” Bucky says, trying to steer the conversation away from him. He keeps thinking of Stark dead in the mud.

“We, uh. I don’t remember,” Parker says.

“You don’t remember?” Bucky says, frowning.

They would have only met a couple weeks ago at the most. It doesn’t make any sense, and Darcy and Parker seem to sense that.

“What was that, about your aunt?” Bucky adds.

Parker blushes.

“I mean, she calls it my… Peter Tingle.”

Parker slumps at the admission and Darcy looks like she’s trying not to smile.

“Your intuition or somethin’?” Bucky says, and Parker nods.

There’s a beat and Darcy takes a deep breath.

“I have these really vivid dreams about the three of us,” she says. “And I thought it was just my active imagination, or some kind of residual drug use from way back –”

Parker’s eyes widen.

“- not that I’m recommending that kind of behavior. Drugs are _bad_ , okay, Petey?”

“Okay,” he repeats slowly. “But?”

“Mushrooms or not, I feel like I know you both really well.”

She glances at Bucky, and she looks nervous.

“Yeah?”

Bucky nods. “I feel the same way.”

“Maybe you did know each other already,” Parker says, shrugging. “Like one of those chance encounters – you know that old movie, _Sleepless in Seattle_?”

Darcy makes a face and Bucky copies her, but for a different reason.

“That movie is _not_ old,” Darcy says, and at the same time Bucky says: “What’s _Sleepless in Seattle_?”

 


	5. Part Five: Don't touch her

_Oh, what can it mean to a_  
_Daydream believer and a_  
_Homecoming queen?_

\- "Daydream Believer" by The Monkees

 

 

**Part Five: Don't touch her**

 

 

“The Queens kid,” Steve says, and Bucky looks up from the spot he was staring at on the ground.

“What about him?” he murmurs.

“He seems… off.”

Bucky frowns. “We all are.”

It’s the most he’s said about the state of things for a while. Steve’s eyes meet his and he shrugs, and Steve works his jaw. They’re standing in the fields where the grass used to grow before the battle.

“He doesn’t remember Germany,” Bucky adds, the thought coming to him. “I thought he would.”

Steve blinks a couple times. “So how does he know Darcy? Did they meet before all this, or –?”

“No,” Bucky says. “I don’t think so. Wasn’t Doctor Foster working in another country?”

They both glance over at Jane and Darcy in the distance, laughing and mapping something out with measuring tape. They’re starting construction in a few days. Everything was about to become chaotic and Bucky wondered how much help he could be while this whole time he couldn’t concentrate.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks.

Bucky rubbed his neck, finally looking away from the women.

“I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Oh?”

“No, it’s – well, it’s a little of that,” Bucky says hastily, while Steve looks intrigued.

He wasn’t sure how to tell Steve he was more or less hallucinating without alarming the guy. He’d only been back a couple of days and Bucky was still on his bullshit. It feels like some things will never change.

“She says the same thing.”

“That’s good!” Steve says, lighting up. “I’m happy for you.”

“I’m saying – have you seen _Sleepless In Seattle_?” Bucky says, and Steve scrunches his nose.

“What?”

“Hey!” Jane yells, and the two of them turn toward her.

She waves her hands frantically, and Bucky sees Darcy lying in the dirt. He takes off, running toward them in a second with Steve at his side. When he reaches Darcy, he drops to the ground.

“I can’t move her,” Jane says, and she sounds terrified. “She just – _dropped_ , I think she fainted.”

Bucky traces her face with his flesh fingers, his other arm going under her side to haul her up. She was limp, her eyes closed as Bucky checks her all over for marks of any kind. Jane and Steve are talking but Bucky doesn’t listen. Darcy’s eyes flutter and she looks up at Bucky, a smile forming on her lips.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Hey,” he breathes, and he’s so relieved she’s okay.

“Where did I go?”

“You passed out,” he whispers back.

“No, I - wait -?”

She scrambles away from him, looking around. She squints at the sun that’s beating down on them, and she shields her eyes, staring into the distance.

“I wasn’t here.”

“What?”

-

Darcy wakes to the sound of waves breaking. The sun is warm on her face and she turns, stretching.

She smiles at the sight of the man beside her. She shifts closer to him, her hand sliding up his bare arm, gliding over his shoulder to his neck and then his face. He stirs, sighing.

His blinks a couple times, returning a languid smile. Darcy smiles wider, rubbing her nose against his as she lifts her leg. She climbs on top of him and he kisses her, taking her face in both hands.

“Morning.”

“Good… _morning_ ,” she replies, her hand falling to his erection, and she chuckles when he groans against her mouth.

They’re both naked, rolling around as they kiss, the sheet tangling in his legs. He kicks it off and Darcy laughs, until she cuts herself off with her own moan, his cock rubbing along the slick seam between her legs.

“Bucky…”

Her breath comes out all shaky and she tugs his hair, kissing him hard, her hips shifting to meet his.

“I want you,” he whispers.

She nods, spreading her thighs wider. He pushes into her and Darcy sucks in a breath. She never is properly prepared for him, even when she’s soaking wet and practically begging for it. Her eyes widen as he works himself into her, their foreheads pressing together.

“Bucky –”

“I’m here,” he whispers. “You feel so good.”

“Baby,” she gasps, and she captures him in another kiss.

-

“Bucky,” she gasps, and she grabs his metal wrist, her eyes bulging at the sight of it. She lets him go like she’s been burned.

“Should we get a doctor?” Jane asks, and then Darcy takes off. Jane’s eyes widen. “DARCY!”

Bucky catches up to Darcy easily, cutting her off so she has no choice but to stop running, and she looks like she could cry.

“I don’t like this. I want to go back.”

“Go back where?” Bucky asks, and Darcy looks like she could cry.

He sees Steve and Jane staring at them and he tries to ignore them. Darcy whimpers before covering her mouth with one hand, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” Bucky says. It’s all he can think to say.

He feels his stomach is heavy with dread. It hurts to see her this way. He can’t use his words but he knows if he does nothing he’ll regret it forever.

He takes her by the wrist with his cybernetic hand and pulls her toward him, and her arms come up to wrap around his waist. She relaxes instantly, and Bucky wraps himself around her, holding her tight.

-

“Did it feel like a dream?” Jane asks Darcy.

She looks at Bucky and then looks away, her cheeks pink.

“No. It felt real. It _is_ real.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I threw in the little bit of smut just for the hell of it. Hope you liked it! 
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	6. Part Six: Don't fall into bed with her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for being so sweet about this fic. Have some smut for the hell of it. Not much plot to this chapter.

_I'm your wolf, I'm your man_  
_I say run little monster_  
_Before you know who I am_

\- "Little Monster" by Royal Blood

 

 

**Part Six: Don't fall into bed with her**

 

 

“Do you remember the day we met?”

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky replies.

He smiles at her as they watch the shore, his arm around her shoulders. Darcy looks down at their bare feet in the sand.

“Where exactly? Can you remember?”

“I wish I could,” he says.

It was on the beach and the tide was out. Darcy picked up a shell, turning it over in her hands. She can remember seeing him standing near her, his hands in his pockets. She remembers smiling at him, walking closer to shake his hand.

“I’m Darcy.”

“Bucky.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I have no idea,” he replied.

Darcy nodded. “Yeah, me neither.”

Darcy turns toward him, his arm dropping to wrap around her waist, pulling her even closer.

“We’ve been together –”

“Five years,” he interjects, and she smiles. “Tomorrow. Five years tomorrow.”

They fall into a comfortable silence. Darcy looks up at the sky, in all its shades of orange. She looks down, towards the horizon.

“Have you ever noticed that the sun never sets?” she murmurs, frowning.

Bucky blinks. “What?”

-

He jolts awake.

He must have sweated through the sheets again. He runs his hands through his damp hair and sighs, glancing at the clock by his bed. It’s stupid o’clock in the morning. He lies back down, staring up in the dark. He doesn’t close his eyes. He’s wide awake.

He remembers yesterday, Darcy fainting and talking about her dreams being real. He remembers the look on her face when she realized she was touching his vibranium wrist. It was like she’d forgotten it was there. Jane said it must have been heat exhaustion and Darcy was acting delirious. She ordered her to take the rest of the afternoon off.

“She been actin’ weird?” Steve asked, and Jane rose one eyebrow.

“Define weird, because Darcy’s not exactly typical,” the doctor replied.

“Weird like the Parker kid,” Bucky grunted, and she looked puzzled.

“Again, define –”

Bucky stalked off in the direction Darcy went. He needed to find Parker to set the record straight. He knew he’d gone back to the city because of school, but FRIDAY would have his contact number. Bucky wasn’t sure if this counted as an emergency or not.

“Mister – I mean, Sargent?”

Parker’s hologram hung by Bucky’s bed, glancing around.

“You can call me Bucky, kid.”

“Okay. Why – uh, why are you calling me, Mister Bucky?”

Bucky closed his eyes for a second, trying to not act like an asshole to this literal child.

“You don’t remember meeting me in Germany with Wilson?” he asked, managing to keep his voice level.

“I guess I do. I keep getting confused. My aunt May said she’s had some of the same problems.”

Bucky wondered if talking to her might help, but he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask Parker, let alone his aunt. He thought of Darcy and pressed on.

“Do you remember meeting Darcy?”

“Yeah, on a beach.”

“What? When?”

Bucky felt his heartrate pick up immediately, for some inexplicable reason. There was nothing sinister about beaches as far as he knew.

“Coney Island, maybe? I – I still get confused.”

“Do you have dreams about it?” Bucky interjected.

Peter bit his lip. “I guess.”

He’s lying. He has the same dreams that Bucky has, probably all the time. He just didn’t want to sound like a freak.

“If you can remember, what were they like?”

“Orange.”

Bucky passed a hand over his face.

Lying on his bed now in the dark, he rolls onto his side, staring at the clock. He remembers finding Darcy after he finished his call with Parker.

He gave in, finally asking Sam if he knew which shipping container she slept in. He did his best to ignore the smirk on Sam’s face, walking off without saying thank you. He was sure Sam would tell Steve the second he could. He anticipated a lot of intrusive questions and heavy teasing from the both of them. He was not looking forward to any of that shit.

He knew it used to be the opposite when they were in their 20’s back in Brooklyn. Steve was picky and introverted, while Bucky took out a dame almost seven nights a week. That made it sound like Bucky had no standards, but in all honesty he just liked women. A lot. He couldn’t get enough of them, and now he was practically a nun, or a monk, as Sam put it.

He doesn’t like this – the shyness to the point of him being almost a mute at times, only speaking when he absolutely had to. He’d spoken more in the last few weeks than he had in years. In Wakanda, he didn’t even speak to the goats all that much, instead clicking his tongue or whistling to get their attention.

It was hard to knock on the side of Darcy’s shipping container without making a lot of noise. He hoped he didn’t wake her up. He heard her moving inside and he felt his stomach flip. The thought of being alone with her made him nervous.

She ripped the door open and glared at him before realizing who he was, her eyes widening. She dropped her hand from her door, slapping her thigh loudly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

A beat.

“You wanna come in?” she asked, and he nodded.

She turned her heel, and Bucky decided to follow her, stepping inside. Her space was more or less the same as his, except she had several planters dotted around her tiny sleeping quarters and her scent was everywhere. Bucky saw her bed in the corner, unmade, a book resting on her pillow.

“I was reading,” Darcy murmured. “ _Baby-Sitters Club_.”

Bucky didn’t know it. He didn’t know a lot of the things people spoke about. At least he could appreciate that the AI network was named after the Cary Grant movie from 1940.

“Not many places to sit.”

“That’s okay,” he murmured. “I don’t know why I’m here exactly.”

“Me, neither,” Darcy threw back, shrugging. “I mean, I’m a delight to be around but you seem kind of a loner.”

She didn’t know the half of it. Bucky blinked.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm,” she said, turning to walk over to her bed, sitting down.

Bucky remained standing.

“I talked to the Parker kid. Peter.”

“Yeah, he’s the only Parker kid I know,” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “What did you talk about?”

“Wanted to know if he’s been having weird dreams like you,” Bucky said. “Like me.”

“What did he say?”

“Yeah, he thinks he has.”

“But you think he _knows_ he’s been having cuckoo dreams and he’s just pretending it’s not a big deal?” Darcy says, and he nods.

She’s good at reading him. Or maybe she’s just a smart girl. Woman. Whatever.

“Why would he downplay that?”

“I think you know,” Darcy said without missing a beat.

He looked right at her, unblinking. He felt something stir in the base of his spine. An arousal he’d only experienced while asleep these days.

“Because it sounds crazy,” Bucky said, answering his own question.

“Hmm,” she said again, leaning back.

Bucky’s eyes dipped to her bare feet.

“Anyway. Thought you should know, I’m trying to figure it out,” he said.

Her toenails are painted red. He could picture those feet much closer, her ankles resting on his shoulders –

He felt the flare of arousal move to his belly like a warm rush and he stepped back, and Darcy sat up straighter, assessing him.

“What are you trying to figure out?” she asked.

She stood up, and Bucky swallowed a couple times, feeling his face flush. He stammered.

“I-I need to know how to make it stop. I want to stop actin’ like – like I’m gettin’ messed up over these dreams…”

“I’m okay with you messed up,” Darcy says, her voice soft.

It’s a culmination of all the moments between them, the glances, the touches that stayed somewhat tame. Darcy moves toward him with purpose, grabbing him by the shirt to pull him against her, kissing him full on the mouth.

She put everything into it, and it took his breath away. She’s never been shy around him so he wondered why he didn’t expect this hunger to her touch. He returned it, and in a blur of hands and mouths they moved back to her bed, Bucky blanketing her.

Darcy’s hand shoved at her book and it fell to the floor, Bucky’s mouth sucking her neck and chest over her shirt, moving down to mouth at her stomach, pulling her t-shirt up to reach her skin. They tug together and her shirt is thrown aside, her thighs wrapping around him, urging him to stay exactly where he is, on top of her and rocking into her like he’s been starved.

It was like a race, who can get naked first. He tugged off his shirt while Darcy pulled off her bra. He moved back to unbuckle his pants and pull them down, Darcy’s hips lifting off the bed as she tugged down her leggings and underwear.

He saw a little wet patch on the front of them as they landed on the floor and he looked down at her, naked and sprawled on the bed and he shoved down his boxers, kicking everything off.

She stared between his legs and his cock jumped in interest, and she laughed breathlessly.

“You good?”

He nodded, and she sat up to kiss him again, and he loved the feel of their chests pressed together, her hands all over him.

“I – _fuck_ ,” he gasped as she palmed his dick, and she smiled.

She pushed her hand to his chest and he moved back, seeing her lick her lips before she ducked her head, pinning his hips. She licked him from root to tip, and Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, his thighs tensed, his toes curling.

She took him in her mouth until her nose bumped his stomach and Bucky shivered, his fingers gliding up her shoulder to thread through her hair, his other hand grabbing her bedsheets for support.

She hummed and he moaned behind his grit teeth. She was greedy, her hips rocking as she bobbed her head. He stared at her round ass, wanting to reach out and grab it, but he was distracted by her mouth on him, and he was trying not to come.

He realized her other hand had slipped down between her legs when she began to moan along with him, and he gave a shaky laugh.

“You touchin’ yourself?” he whispered, and she nodded, looking up at him with those huge blue eyes. “Fuckin’… hell…”

He kept shivering, wanting that sweet release but it was too fast, he wanted more. He tugged her hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to make his point and she pulled back with an obscene pop, grinning.

Her mouth was red and wet and he kissed her, sloppy and rough, pulling her up and lying on top of her again, shoving her legs apart with his knee. She pressed her heel into his ass, her eyes bright beneath him as he slowly sunk into her.

Christ, she was tight. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to hers as he attempted to gather himself. She shifted her hips, trying to coax him to start moving and he groaned, tipping his head to kiss her again.

It was intense. He tried to pull back from it, see it as only fucking, which he hadn’t done in the longest time. He couldn’t remember the last time he got this far with a dame.

He just about lost it when she gasped his name, and he picked up speed, and soon there was no reprieve between each stroke. His hips snapped as he kissed her again and again, making sure he didn’t stop being attentive with his mouth and hands, despite how good he knew it would feel if he just held her down and fucked her as hard as he wanted.

She never stopped moaning, not until she pressed his fingers on her swollen clit, rubbing her how she like it. She went completely still as she climaxed, only to shudder a few seconds later, her eyes squeezed shut and her face and chest covered in sweat.

He lasted only a minute longer, shoving as far into her as possible as he came, pulling her flush against him in a sweaty embrace. His face is pressed in her hair and it tickled his nose, making him pull back and rub it with a shaking hand.

“I had an inkling,” Darcy whispered, sounding wrecked.

He glanced down at her, smiling like a happy idiot.

“What?”

“That you’d be great in bed.”

He chuckled. “Verdict?”

“Kudos,” she whispered, lifting her hand to high-five his. “Good for you.”

The very real sex they had is fresh in his mind, and Bucky thinks about bringing Darcy back to his bed sometime, if she’d let him.

When they separated, Darcy grabbed her underwear from the floor to redress and Bucky copied her. Reality began to set in when he face changed, something clearly on her mind.

“You should go,” she murmured, and Bucky felt his heart sink.

“Oh.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she added, coming to stand beside him as he pulled his shirt back on. “I just need some time to think.”

Bucky wondered what conclusion her mind was trying to reach. He should have stayed, asked her what she was thinking about.

“Okay.”

She kissed him again, gentler than before. When they broke apart, her finger traced his lip, a wry smile on her face.

He left her, hands deep in his pockets as the soft breeze of the afternoon ran through his hair. He’d only known her less than a month. He couldn’t deny these feelings, this overwhelming urge to simultaneously wrap himself around her but also run away from her.

He saw the sun was about to set in the distance.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://vibranium.tumblr.com/)


	7. Part Seven: Don't mention her

_And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem_  
_But if I know you, I know what you'll do_  
_You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream_

\- "Once Upon A Dream" by Mary Costa 

 

 

**Part Seven: Don't mention her**

 

 

“Trouble sleeping?”

“No,” Darcy replies.

Banner looks up from his clipboard, sighing.

“You know, I have seven PhDs,” he says, glancing from Steve to Sam, then to Bucky and Darcy. “And all you people use me for is free healthcare.”

“Healthcare should be free,” Steve and Darcy say in unison, Darcy on the slightly (and it’s really only the tiniest fraction) sassier side.

Darcy high-fives Steve and Bucky smirks. Sam catches him, and Bucky knows he’s going to hear about it later, if he wasn’t already. When he finally left his bed that morning, Darcy was on her way to find him. She didn’t try to kiss him. She was acting like they hardly knew each other, and he didn’t have to wonder why. Sam and Steve were already staring at them awkwardly interact.

“I don’t like talking about that kind of stuff when it’s not anyone else’s business,” she whispered, and Bucky nodded. “I asked them where you were.”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna go find Professor Hulk and get some tests done.”

Which led them to the makeshift lab, Darcy sitting on a stool while the three men hung around, Banner holding his clipboard.

“Cost isn’t my point,” he said, shrugging his enormous shoulders. “I’m busy. My to-do list is longer than my arm which is saying something…”

“What exactly are you tryin’ to find out, Darcy?” Steve asks, and her eyes swing to his.

“Jane called it cuckoo, forgetting she’s the one who was possessed by the Aether way back,” Darcy replies, crossing her arms. She frowns. “Those dreams we’re having are too realistic to ignore.”

“We?” Sam repeats, and Bucky feels eyes train on him, waiting.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “I need tests, too, I guess.”

“Okay. But then I need you two –” Banner points to Sam and Steve. “- to get over to the trucks showing up later. I need someone to supervise those construction guys.”

They leave Banner to it, Bucky standing by with his arms crossed, watching Bruce test Darcy’s sight, hearing and reflexes. He does the same to Bucky.

“Cognition is fine. You’re both functioning well.”

“What about a blood test, or an MRI?” Darcy asks.

“That’s just greedy,” Banner says, but he smiles at her. “I know it’s tempting to use what’s available, and I love tests –”

“Me, too!” Darcy says, smiling wider at him, probably to spur Banner on.

“Except it’s most likely totally unnecessary and a waste of time,” Banner finishes, and Darcy deflates.

Bucky nods, wishing he could say or do something to make Darcy perk up again.

“Are you guys having the same dreams?” Banner asks suddenly, looking over his notes.

Bucky glances at Darcy, unsure.

“Uh…”

“If we were, what would that mean?” Darcy asks Banner, tilting her head.

“Could mean a lot of things,” Banner says. He puts down the clipboard and crosses his arms. “What else do you two have in common?”

“I’m a Gemini, he’s a Pisces,” Darcy says dryly, nodding at Bucky. Banner chuckles. “So that’s a bust, astrologically speaking.”

“You guys both dusted?”

Bucky and Darcy share a glance. “Yeah.”

“I mean, that’s something,” Banner says.

They walk out ten minutes later, and Bucky doesn’t feel any more settled. Why would being gone for five years have anything to do with the weird dreams he was having?

Darcy reaches out to touch his wrist and he stops walking, looking down at her.

“Yesterday,” she begins, and then she sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Bucky whispers. He’s waiting for her to ask him to keep it a secret, to never speak about it ever again. He’s expecting her to say she wants them to forget it ever happened.

She doesn’t answer his question straight away.

“I… don’t sleep with guys that fast. Usually.”

Bucky nods. “Right.”

She rubs her eyes. “We were both enthusiastic participants. Unless I took it too far too fast for you, too?”

Bucky frowns. “What? No.”

“Right, so…”

She’s so awkward it’s totally adorable, her blush reaching down her neck and all over her face. She bites her plump lower lip, considering her words.

“You have sex dreams about me, right?” she blurts, and Bucky’s eyebrows hike.

“Yeah. You?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, eyes widening as she nods. “Like, bigtime.”

_I had an inkling… that you’d be great in bed._

“Those dreams,” he murmurs, and he meets her gaze again. “Do you hear waves? Are you near a beach?”

Her eyes bulge. “Yes! You, too?”

He nods. “What does that mean?”

“Maybe we went somewhere else when we were dusted,” Darcy says, grabbing his arm. “What if – what if they’re memories?”

-

Steve’s mouth falls open when Bucky comes out and says it.

“We went to bed together.”

It’s like his oldest friend wasn’t expecting him to be so honest, and Bucky knows why. Sometimes it’s been like trying to pull teeth when it comes to talking about his love life. Steve stares at him, open-mouthed as the sounds of the workers nearby overlap.

“When?” Sam asks, who’s grinning ear to ear.

“Yesterday,” Bucky says, shrugging. “But don’t spread that around.”

Steve’s still stuck on the first part, staring at Bucky.

“Yesterday?” Sam repeats. “And then you’ve said nothing about it since?”

“It probably won’t happen again,” Bucky mutters.

Darcy had gone to find Jane earlier, and there wasn’t even a hug between them or a lingering kiss. As far as Bucky knew, Darcy was preoccupied with more important things.

“That’s cold-blooded, man,” Sam says, and Bucky shakes his head.

“Not up to me.”

“Oh.”

He shoves Steve’s shoulder to get him to stop staring.

“Somethin’ on your mind, punk?”

“No, no, nothin’,” Steve babbles, and then he finally glances away, still quiet.

-

Bucky sees a redhead in the distance and he knows it’s Natasha. She’s walking with Clint Barton, who managed to get back over to see her since the news broke that she was alive and well again.

He sees Darcy and Jane talking with her, and then he freezes when the three women all turn and look at him. He’s like a deer in headlights, and he sees Clint laugh at his alarmed state, pointing at him down the hill.

He ducks his head, shoving his hands into his pockets to walk over to them, hoping he looks less of an idiot the closer he gets.

“Hey,” he murmurs to the group, and Natasha gives one of her signature enigmatic smiles.

“Hey, Barnes,” she says. “How’s the work going?”

“Okay. We’re already a few hours behind, but Banner says the labs are on their way.”

He says the last part to Jane who nods.

“I’m looking forward to not having to use generators anymore.”

“Can Bucky and I borrow you?” Darcy says to Natasha, and Jane frowns.

“We have work to do.”

“This will take a second,” Darcy says to her boss, and Jane looks like she’s trying to not roll her eyes in exasperation.

Clint claps his hands together. The last time Bucky saw him he was a mess, but the man looks completely different now.

“Let’s go check on Bruce, huh?”

Jane and Clint walk down the hill and Darcy doesn’t talk until they’re well out of earshot.

“This is about death,” she says, and Natasha’s face falls.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just – I thought it would be better to be blunt about it, but I guess it’s coming off as crass,” Darcy mutters, and Natasha exchanges a look with Bucky.

“You guess?”

“Is it traumatizing?” Darcy ventures, and Natasha’s eyes widen slightly.

“I killed myself. I jumped off a cliff in Vormir for the Soul Stone. Clint had to come back here alone, after I stopped him from killing himself. He was holding my hand and I kicked off the cliff wall.”

Bucky already knew all this. Darcy’s expression changes, her cheeks reddening.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” she mumbles. “I wanted to know if – if you remembered…”

“If I remembered dying?” Natasha says, and Darcy clamps her mouth shut, nodding.

Natasha laughs without mirth, and her eyes suddenly turn glassy. Bucky has never seen her like this. The redhead shakes her head a little, sighing.

“No, I don’t remember dying.”

“So, no afterlife?”

“I guess not,” she says, a bitter smile on her face. “Was that it?”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy says again. “I put my foot in my mouth. My mom says I was born that way, and I have no filter. I guess with age it’s less cute.”

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, well… I just hope Tony doesn’t remember dying.”

Bucky closes his eyes for a second and Darcy does the same.

“I’m sorry,” Darcy whispers.

Natasha swipes at her eyes. “Did – uh, did you have anything to add, Barnes?”

He works his jaw, trying to think of something to remedy the situation.

“We want to know if you remember an afterlife because we think we went somewhere when we dusted,” he murmurs.

Natasha’s face changes to concerned.

“Anywhere in particular?” she asks, and Bucky hesitates, glancing at Darcy before he answers.

“A beach.”

“It’s orange,” Darcy adds. “Everything there had the same orange hue. And the sun never set.”

Natasha stares at them, unblinking.

“That sounds like the Soul Stone.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Professor "You only use me for my medical know-how" Hulk tsk tsk tsk...
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	8. Part Eight: Don't let her stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so in love with their love ahhhhhhhh

_Let's go get out in the street_   
_Somebody's gotta_   
_Let's get the stars to align_   
_For lambs to slaughter_

"They Want My Soul" by Spoon

 

 

**Part Eight: Don't let her stay**

 

 

Darcy knows she’s hot and cold. She hasn’t been this way with a guy before.

Bucky isn’t just any guy, it turns out, so maybe that’s why. She knows it must be confusing for him. They fuck and then she pretends it didn’t happen? Why?

She lies on her back, mulling over the last day. Natasha didn’t deserve her lack of tact, Darcy knows that. At least she was able to tell them a little of what she knows. If it has something to do with the Soul Stone, did that mean they needed to find someone who understood the Stones better than they already did?

Darcy couldn’t focus for the rest of the day. What does it mean if they were spending years somewhere together? Her soul with his in perpetual bliss?

It was a far cry from their reality now. She could smell the mud still on her boots from earlier that day. Her dreams were nothing but a haze of lovemaking and perfect scenes of a shore. She can imagine the waves breaking.

“Fuck,” she mutters, and she throws her legs over her bed, shoving her shoes on and grabbing her hoodie.

She stalks out of her tiny bedroom, hearing the crickets on her way through the neighbouring shipping containers.

She can’t get him out of her head.

She knocks on his door, a loud thudding even when she tries to be gentle, and she listens for movement inside. She hears him walking up to the door and he opens it, his eyes looking straight ahead, perhaps because he was expecting someone taller.

He glances down, eyes widening. He gulps.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” she replies.

He moves back and she slips inside, looking around. His place is the same size as hers of course, but he keeps it clean, almost sparse.

“We’ll talk after,” she says, glancing up at him.

“After –?”

She cuts him off with a kiss, pulling him down to meet her, her tongue plying his mouth open in seconds. She’s missed him, more than she thinks she can properly express with her words, so she uses her hands instead, touching him everywhere as they move together, mouths missing each other to kiss. They only pull apart so Darcy can take off her shirt and hoodie, and then he scoops her up, his hands on her ass as she wraps her legs around his middle. He’s so strong – of course he is, but she forgets sometimes that he’s not ordinary.

Not that anything about him is exactly average, she’s still getting used to being around so many enhanced humans. Thor doesn’t count, and he’s Asgardian anyway.

They land on his bed, Darcy’s mouth moving down his face and neck, nipping at his Adam’s apple, and she can see his pulse point jumping, she can hear the breathy gasps in her ears as she runs her tongue over his skin, nibbling at him.

She’s graceless when it comes to taking off her own clothes, but he doesn’t seem to mind – she lowers herself onto his hard cock with little prep and his eyes go wider, both of them groaning together.

Their mouths don’t close when they kiss, and Darcy begins to rock.

He feels incredible. She hopes she can tell him that, show him that with the way she knows her face changes when she’s wrapped up in fucking.

“Darcy,” he moans.

 _Holy shit_ , that does wonders for her self-esteem, a grown man that looks like him saying her name so sweetly. He lifts her up and down, cupping her ass cheeks, fingers digging into her skin. She’s more or less using his body, dictating the pace while he helps take the pressure off her knees.

She licks her fingers, trailing them down her stomach to brush her clit, and she’s close, she’s tensing, playing with herself as she bounces.

Her eyes close at the last second and she holds her breath, coming and jerking her hips, feeling her thighs shake. She laughs a little at the end of it, feeling hot all over.

“I’m gonna come,” he warns and she nods, pulling him into a hard kiss.

He moans, his arms wrapping around her middle as he holds her in place, fucking up into her fast and Darcy’s fingers dig into his arms, laughing because she feels overwhelmed.

“God… _damn_ ,” he groans, and he comes, cuddling her to him, their skin sticky with sweat.

He kisses her, tender and slow and Darcy feels her eyes water. She pulls back, staring into his eyes. Something passes between them and Darcy swallows, pushing his hair back.

“I’m sorry I shut you out,” she whispers. “I was scared.”

“That’s okay,” he whispers back.

“What if… what if I’m different to what you dreamt?” she murmurs, and he kisses her again, on her mouth and then her cheek, nuzzling her skin.

He hugs her, and Darcy does her best to tamper down an outright sob.

She thinks she loves him. She hardly knows him and she can’t stand the idea of disappointing him.

“What if…?”

He shushes her, stroking her hair.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to hers. “We’ll work it out.”

She takes his hand, placing it on her chest over her heart. He might be able to feel it racing. He nods, taking her other hand to place on his chest.

“I don’t want to go,” Darcy whispers, her eyes stinging.

“Stay,” he whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	9. Part Nine: Don't let her see

_Maybe we could get to know each other_   
_Give a little, get a little, give a little_   
_And if you give a little, get a little_   
_Maybe we could learn to love each other_

\- "Give A Little" by Maggie Rogers

 

 

**Part Nine: Don't let her see**

 

 

Bucky wakes to the sound of the ocean. He sees two of her.

The warm, tangerine hued version and then he blinks to see the other.

She is the same, but blue and white and pink. The predawn light makes her glow and she blinks up at him in his arms. She blinks, her full lips parting, recognising him above her.

He leans down to kiss her. She stayed all through the night. They slept naked, his arms wrapping around her middle as he brushed his nose against her throat.

Awake together, she fastens her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, their mouths slanting together to kiss. He pulls back to look her in the eye, their mouths still open. He feels so awake, his blood rushing all through him as he waits to pounce.

“What’s the catch?” he whispers.

Her tongue darts out to run from his bottom lip to his top, goading him. His hands slipped under her, one under her back, fingers splayed across the taut muscles of her, his cybernetic hand cupping the back of her head. He closes the gap with a hard kiss, her thighs wrapping around him to pull him flush against her.

Her back bows when he pushes inside her, her eyes wider and so, so blue. They gasp together and he doesn’t dare close his eyes. It feels like something more than the last two times he was inside her. He stills, his hand touching her face, mapping out the features of her.

“Bucky,” she moans, and he pushes further, hissing.

She’s trembling when he begins to rock his hips, feeling her wrapped tight and wet around him. He feels his cheeks flush to match her complexion, but he still keeps his eyes open.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “ _Fuck_.”

Words don’t suffice. He wants everything from her, everything. He’d take anything she can give and he picks up speed, kissing her, eyes finally fluttering shut.

-

 _Jesus_. Darcy rests her head on Bucky’s chest, her hand trailing through the patch of hair there, and she can smell sex all around her.

The mess between her thighs is seeping out. She decides to move after a couple minutes, glancing down to see his eyes are shut and he looks younger, almost peaceful as he lies there. As quietly as she can, she picks up her clothes on the floor and redresses, walking toward his front door to slip out.

She nearly walks straight into Natasha and she freezes, caught.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” the redhead echoes, but there’s so much more to it in her tone.

Darcy runs a hand through her hair to detangle some of it. She’s sure she looks thoroughly screwed, and by the way Natasha is looking at her, she knows it will be old news around the compound by the time she goes back to Bucky.

Darcy walks off to find the bathroom and cleans up. She has beard burn on her mouth and neck and she rubs at it with her fingers, testing its severity.

She sneaks back to Bucky, pulling off her clothes to crawl back into bed, and he rolls over, tugging her under him. They make love again, slower than before. He’s thorough, burying under the covers to eat her out for a while as she smothers her screams with a pillow.

He emerges with a wet mouth and a wicked grin, pinning her arms above her head as he kisses her all over, her hips rolling as he tugs at her nipples.

“Bucky…”

She tries not to whine but she wants him inside her, it’s all she can think about, especially when his cock is jutting toward her.

“Can you… can you fuck me really hard?” she murmurs, and his eyes snap to hers, his eyes going darker.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, Darce,” he whispers.

She licks her lips and his eyes are glued to her mouth.

“Or I could suck you off.”

“Jesus,” he whispers, laughing a little. He presses his forehead to the bed beside her shoulder.

She waits, her stomach flipping. He’s so beautiful, his eyes bright and consuming her when he moves to brush her nose with his.

“You’re the man of my dreams,” she whispers.

She thinks for a second that perhaps she’s gone too far, it’s too much to hear too soon. He’ll run away because she’s asking him to be too much before he’s ready.

She tries to smile but she knows her nervousness shows on her face and he blinks a couple times, hands grasping her face.

“There’s no catch,” she adds, because she never answered him before. “It’s just me.”

 _All of me_ , she wants to say, but she waits instead.

She seems to surprise him, because he’s looking at her differently. She hopes she can learn how to show him better in time.

-

“Doctor Strange? The wizard guy?” Darcy says, and Steve’s lips quirk.

“The same one,” he says with a nod.

She’s standing with Bucky and Steve close to the construction site. Everyone kept looking over at her and Bucky during breakfast and she didn’t mind, she just hoped it didn’t make Bucky pull back. To his credit, he acted as if she was sitting alone with him when they shared pieces of toast despite the spectators.

He didn’t pull his hand away when she took it in his now, Steve’s eyes dropping to see their fingers thread together.

“We’ll go to the city together,” Darcy says, glancing at Bucky.

He nods and she feels her stomach flip. They fall silent and Darcy spots Natasha walking with Clint, his arm around her.

“What do you know about Vormir?” she asks, her eyes swinging to Steve.

Something passes over his face.

“The Red Skull is there. He’s the guardian. Forced to watch over the Stone for all eternity.”

“I’m trying to not ask rude questions anymore –”

“He worked with Zola,” Bucky murmurs, and Darcy feels a lump in her throat.

“Right.”

“I took the Stone back to Vormir for Natasha,” Steve says. “Everything’s in its right place.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly at Steve’s choice of words and Darcy takes a deep breath. Steve watches his friend mull something over.

“Buck, we did everything we could.”

“It still seems unfair,” Bucky says, his voice tighter.

“Stark died for all of us,” Steve says, and Darcy feels her eyes sting. “For the whole universe.”

Darcy knew about Bucky’s role in the demise of Tony Stark’s parents. She read all she could when HYDRA’s files were dumped by Natasha years ago. So far with Bucky she’d been keeping her gaze forward, never looking back. She knew that wasn’t the right way to live, and she couldn’t ignore his past. So far, all they had done together was understand their dreams were memories, and Darcy couldn’t only care about her own memories. She needed to honor Bucky’s as well, every one of them.

She squeezed his hand and he swallowed, looking down at her, bringing himself back.

“You riding shotgun, or me?” she asked, and his lips quirked in a smile.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Lord help me I love these two so much it makes me crazy
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	10. Part Ten: Don't take off with her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These... CUTIES!

_As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine_

\- "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex

 

 

**Part Ten: Don't take off with her**

 

 

Darcy walks toward Bucky with her car keys, twirling the keyring on her index finger. It’s more or less the same as a few days ago when she left for Queens, except this time Bucky’s holding onto his packed duffel bag, and he smiles openly at her.

To go from being almost strangers to one another to never wanting to leave her side in a matter of days is insane to Bucky. He knows if he were to stop for too long he might lose his nerve, so when Darcy said she wanted to see Doctor Strange, Bucky invited himself.

“You ready?” she asks when she stops in front of him, her eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go,” she says, and she turns her heel.

He follows her to the Jeep, walking to the passenger’s side but Darcy pivots at the last second, tossing the keys to him and he catches them in his vibranium hand, eyes wider.

“Shotgun,” she says.

He hasn’t driven in a while. A few years at least. Certainly not outside of HYDRA’s control, because he hasn’t needed to. By the way she’s looking at him now, she’s challenging him. She’s giving him autonomy and it’s up to him whether to take it.

He glances down at the keys in his hand and pushes the button to unlock the car and Darcy pulls open the passenger-side door and slips inside. He licks his lips, wondering how badly this could go. Perhaps he’d be triggered on their way to the city, but he’d been doing better lately. It occurs to him then that he hasn’t had a nightmare since meeting Darcy. He’s only been dreaming of the beach and her, not the memories of having no control as he murdered HYDRA targets.

Darcy calls out to him:

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, then louder so she can hear, “I’m good.”

He goes to trunk and tosses his bag in beside Darcy’s. Her suitcase has wheels and a plastic shell. He shuts the trunk and walks back to the front, pulling the driver’s side door open. He slips inside, looking around. Darcy’s watching him as he adjusts his seat and the rear view mirror. He meets her gaze, feeling his lips quirk in a smile.

“What’re you starin’ at?” he murmurs, and she leans back, her elbow propped up on her window ledge, her thumb nail between her teeth.

“Nothin’,” she murmurs.

He supposes she’s imitating his accent and he feels his stomach flip. It shouldn’t be this easy, especially with someone as beautiful as her. Every time he looks at her he stares. He can’t be casual about anything. He thinks about pulling her into a kiss but he stops himself, thinking about overwhelming her.

To his surprise, she moves toward him and kisses him on the lips, long and slow. When she moves back eventually, Bucky clears his throat, sure that he’s blushing again.

“Buckle up,” he tells her and she chuckles.

“Bossy.”

“Hmm,” he replies.

He starts the car and he checks his mirrors again before reversing out of the spot, his hand on the back of Darcy’s seat while he looks behind. They take off down the dirt track, and Darcy’s hand hovers over the menu on the dashboard, pressing a few buttons to bring up a map, and then she goes to put on music.

She jabs the shuffle option repeatedly, dissatisfied with most songs that come up. Her eyes snap to Bucky’s as he watches her skip song after song and she smirks.

“You won’t know any of these songs,” she murmurs.

“Put on whatever. Something you like,” he says.

He joins the traffic by the time Darcy stays on a song, leaning back as it begins. Bucky glances at the display, frowning.

“That’s not a new song.”

 _Smoke Gets In Your Eyes_ plays as they turn into the freeway and Bucky feels a little better. He can remember driving better the further they go. A thought occurs to him.

“If we’re pulled over there might be trouble. I don’t have a license.”

“Oh,” Darcy says, her eyes widening. “Like, a current one?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out.

They fall silent for a few seconds and then Darcy begins to giggle and it’s catching, Bucky starts to laugh along with her as they rocket down the freeway.

“Do you want to pull over?” Darcy asks finally, and Bucky shakes his head.

“We’re only on the road, what, an hour more?” Bucky says, and Darcy’s shaking her head, laughing. “What’s the big deal?”

“You’re already breaking the law and you’ve only just left the compound with me.”

She laughs again, glancing at the other cars around them.

“I don’t usually… do stuff like this with guys I’m…”

Bucky feels her eyes on him again and he glances at her, blinking.

“Guys you’re…?” he says.

“Guys I’m sleeping with.”

He looks back at the road. “Right.”

“Is that – does any of this freak you out?” Darcy asks, and he considers her question.

He shrugs. “I guess you have to be specific, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, and he glances at her, seeing she’s smiling again.

“What?”

“I like that. ‘Sweetheart’. Does things to me.”

He gives a surprised laugh, shaking his head.

“Well, you are,” he murmurs. He feels his cheeks heat. “A sweetheart.”

“Your sweetheart,” she adds.

His eyes snap to hers and he’s distracted, remembering he needs to keep his eyes forward for the most part.

“Yeah,” he says, voice lower. He feels shy about it.

He feels Darcy’s hand on his and he looks down before squeezing her, putting her hand close to his face so he can kiss her knuckles. When he has to use both hands on the wheel, her hand rests on his thigh. It’s a assuring weight on him, reminding him she doesn’t want to stop touching him.

“I don’t take boyfriends on trips,” she says eventually, and he nods. “Haven’t really wanted to.”

Bucky knows this is more of a necessity than an actual vacation but he understands what she means. She’s acknowledging the significance of them driving away together.

“I’m happy to be here,” he says, because he means it. She smiles at him, gripping his thigh.

 _Also, I’m in love with you_ , he wants to add. He swallows to steady himself, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I’m happy you’re here, too,” she murmurs.

A few beats and Bucky looks at her, her eyes scanning him in return.

“Tell me to slow down if you need me to,” she says, and he blinks.

“I don’t want you to,” he says instantly.

“Okay,” she says, quieter. “Just in case –”

He picks up her hand again, kissing it.

“I mean it, there’s no place I’d rather be,” he says.

She seems to relax a little and Bucky kisses her hand twice more before he places it back on his thigh, his eyes swinging back to the traffic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	11. Part Eleven: Don't investigate with her

_Dust to dust_  
_Ashes in your hair remind me_  
_What it feels like_  
_And I won't feel again_

\- "In This Twilight" by Nine Inch Nails

 

 

**Part Eleven: Don't investigate with her**

 

 

By the time they reach Bleecker Street it’s nearly noon. When they reached the city, Darcy kept looking over at Bucky, trying to gauge how he was feeling and whether or not he was comfortable with the sudden change.

Being on the compound grounds was ten times less busy than Greenwich Village. Darcy jumps out of the car, crossing her arms and glancing up at the doors to what they were told is The New York Sanctum. Darcy doesn’t know exactly what she’s going to say, but she knows she’ll say a lot because she’s nervous. Bucky follows her, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

“You’ve met this guy, right?” Darcy asks.

“Yeah, but – we don’t hang out or anythin’,” he mutters.

“No weekly newsletter for the gang to read up on?” Darcy throws back.

They walk up to the front door and Darcy raises her fist to knock on the door, only to have it open without her touching it and she jumps back, bumping into Bucky. He grabs her arm to balance her as a man appears with an expectant look on his face.

“Hello.”

“Uh, hi,” Darcy says, smiling awkwardly. She doesn’t know this guy at all. She was vaguely aware that Strange had a goatee. She found some photos online of his neurosurgeon days. “I’m Darcy, and this is Bucky.”

“We’re expecting you,” the stranger says, moving back to let them in.

“You don’t want to see ID or anything? We could be anyone –”

The door opens wider and Strange is standing there, a mildly amused expression on his face and Darcy stops short, snapping her mouth shut.

“Captain Rogers phoned ahead with descriptions.”

There is a beat and Darcy considers asking what descriptions Steve would have used. She has some idea what she’d say – something about a frizzy, bespectacled gremlin who couldn’t keep her hands off the handsome homeless guy beside her.

“And photos,” the other guy says.

“Darcy,” she says again, offering her hand.

“Wong.”

They walk inside and Darcy glances up at the immense staircase, at all the décor. She would have thought there’d be more people there.

“I’m an associate of Thor’s,” she adds.

“Yes, we met several years ago,” Strange says, and his cloak rustles and Darcy stares at it, having some idea that it has a mind of its own. She knows she needs to brush up on her knowledge of the Mystic Arts. Strange gestures. “Follow me this way.”

Darcy takes Bucky’s hand and she sees he’s distracted as they walk to another room. They sit on armchairs with a small table between them. A pot of tea materialises and Darcy stares at it, swallowing.

“Do people tend to come to you for…?”

Strange stares at her as the teapot levitates, pouring her and Bucky a cup each. Darcy’s voice trails off as she stares at the teapot.

“For what, Miss Lewis?”

“Magical quandaries,” she finishes, and the teapot sets itself back down.

“What concern of yours constitutes as a magical quandary?” Strange asks, and Darcy glances at Bucky briefly.

“We… have these dreams.”

“Okay,” Strange says, and he steeples his long fingers. “Elaborate.”

“We spoke to Natasha – the _Black Widow_ –”

“Natasha Romanoff, yes, I know,” Strange mutters, and Darcy feels a lick of irritation at his tone.

“Steve brought her back from Vormir,” Bucky interjects, his voice a low rumble.

Strange’s eyes flitter over to him.

“We thought she’d be able to tell us about the afterlife, or something like that,” Darcy says. “Because for the last several days we’ve been having the same dreams.”

“And you don’t believe in coincidences?” Strange says.

“A coincidence is reading about Sumatran tigers and then seeing a girl on the subway wearing a Gucci jacket with a tiger on it the same day,” Darcy says, and Strange gives the ghost of a smirk.

“That is the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, Miss Lewis,” Strange replies. “It’s synchronicity.”

“You know what I mean,” Darcy says, waving her hand with a hint of impatience. “We’re having the same dreams, of the same place, all the time.”

Bucky clears his throat. “Unless it’s some kind of shared delusion.”

The thought had not occurred to Darcy. She stares at him and his eyes swivel to hers, and he shrugs.

“I _forgot_ to mention everything is orange, too,” Darcy says to Strange. “And Natasha said it sounds like the Soul Stone.”

“Have you had anyone else tell you about dreaming in Sunkist?”

Darcy narrows her eyes slightly. “No. Well. Peter –”

“Quill?” Strange prompts.

“Who?”

“Parker,” Bucky cuts in, and Darcy tilts her head.

“There’s more than one Peter?”

“There’s more than one Steven, too,” Bucky murmurs, and Strange narrows his eyes this time.

“First of all, my name is spelt differently to your Brooklyn buddy.”

“Jesus. _Anyway_ – my point is that we don’t know enough about the Soul Stone to know if we were somewhere together while we were dusted. I’ve seen _Gravity_ – there’s a beach in that movie, right? And they’re dead? I think? I saw it a long time ago.”

“Are all your frames of references movies like that Parker kid?” Strange throws back.

“Kinda,” Darcy admits. “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Rhodey’s name is James, too, by the way,” Strange says to Bucky, who blinks. “So there are two Jameses.”

“Quandary!” Darcy says sharply. “I’m saying that I think our souls met after we dusted. Do you remember anything after dusting?”

She was certain she saw Strange’s name on the list of those who were missing for five years.

“No, I don’t,” Strange murmurs, his eyes meeting Darcy’s. Something passes over his face. It makes Darcy think of Tony Stark and she looks at Bucky.

“Should we research this?” Darcy asks. “We came to you because you knew about the Stones –”

“The Stone is back on Vormir and Natasha Romanoff is alive,” Strange says. “By all accounts, I’d say you’re as up to speed as I am with the Soul Stone. I didn’t have the privilege of meeting my soul mate that way.”

Darcy’s stomach flips and she gapes.

“Soul mate?”

“What, suddenly being met with that idea sounds implausible to you two?” Strange asks.

“No,” Bucky says without missing a beat.

“I – I didn’t say we were soulmates,” Darcy stammers. “You don’t even know if –”

“ _Really_ , this is strictly platonic between you two?” Strange drawls, and Darcy glares at him.

“No,” she says through gritted teeth. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Right, I just have the small business of your _souls_ ,” Strange says, before sighing. “I will see if I can dig anything up in our archives, but most likely it will anecdotal.”

“That’s fine with me,” Darcy says, feeling herself loosen. She picks up her cup and sips some tea before putting it back down.

Bucky copies her and Darcy locks eyes with him, feeling her stomach flip.

“Do you think I’m right?”

She says this before looking back at Strange who’s watching them with curiosity.

“Yes,” he says. “I just don’t think you can prove it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon](https://www.damninteresting.com/the-baader-meinhof-phenomenon/)
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	12. Part Twelve: Don't reciprocate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I published Part Eleven several hours ago so make sure you've read it before reading this part!

_What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me?_  
_What are you wondering? What do you know?_  
_Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me?_  
_When we all fall asleep, where do we go?_

\- "bury a friend" by Billie Eilish

 

 

**Part Twelve: Don't reciprocate**

 

 

Darcy stands on the balcony of their hotel room several hours later, watching the Manhattan skyline. Earlier that day, they left the Sanctum for Queens, bound for Peter’s place.

She’d spent some time with Peter already. It was hard to explain exactly how it all started. Darcy remembers few too many details about how she knows Peter, and if the memo from Natasha was anything to go by, he only knew her better when they were dusted.

The cool air on her arms keeps her present, but she’s thinking over the rest of their day. Bucky seemed to withdraw when they took the subway over to Queens, and Darcy kept checking in, wondering where his mind was at. She considered that maybe he’d reached his limit for the day, like so many introverts do. Jane was the same, and Erik. His threshold might have been meeting Strange and Wong and asking so many questions.

As the train car thundered along, she and Bucky stood together with the rest of the afternoon crowd. Darcy watched Bucky stare into space, until she realized he was staring at a picture of Tony Stark. It was another ad for a TV documentary of his life. Darcy thought of Peter asking her about the Stones when he visited last week. He was adamant he understood the consequences and she had to be the one to tell him they couldn’t travel back in time, not even for a visit without there being repercussions.

“You’d have to see Tony and then not speak to him,” she said, gesturing wildly.

Peter was the same, hands in the air, imploring her. “I could be quiet. I’m getting better at stealth, Darcy. I’d just go back to see him from a distance and then I’d leave. Thirty seconds, tops.”

“That’s not what Pym Particles are for! That’s what a therapist is for!” Darcy retorted, and Peter glanced at the ceiling.

“Nebula killed her past self.”

“Are you really using Nebula as a reason to try and travel back in time?” Darcy snapped.

She can still remember Peter’s face when she said that, how heartbreaking it was to see him realize it wasn’t going to work in his favour, no matter what angle he attempted.

In the subway, Darcy touched Bucky’s arm, the flesh one that was reaching to hold onto the plastic strap that hung down for people standing while they travelled. His gaze lowered to meet hers, his brows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” she murmured, and he blinked a couple times, nodding.

He looked away, and Darcy knew he was lying. He didn’t want to worry her, or maybe he didn’t want to talk about it here, with other people listening. They got off at their stop and Darcy kept seeing more posters, flowers in places along their walk from the station. She hadn’t noticed them as much when she was there last week.

They were constantly reminded of the fallen hero. There was one mural, a painting behind a convenience store just a street away from Peter’s place that made Bucky stop in his tracks, and Darcy paused, staring at his face.

“He’s everywhere,” he murmured. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself.

“Yeah,” Darcy murmured.

“He’s not comin’ back.”

“No,” she breathed, and Bucky looked away finally, moving on.

There were flowers in front of the painting, people taking photos with their phones. Some visitors were crying or laying their own cards and bouquets.

“Bucky –”

“How much further?” he muttered, and Darcy pointed.

“Just down there. I texted May before.”

“She knows who I am?”

“She has some idea,” Darcy replied.

She knew she’d made a mistake. It was too much too soon. It was too good to be true. There’s only so much pressure someone can take, and she’s dragging him through it.

She knocked on the apartment door, and thirty seconds later May Parker appeared at the door, smiling at them both.

“Long time no see,” she said to Darcy, pulling her into a hug.

“This is Bucky,” Darcy said, gesturing to Bucky beside her.

“Hi, I’m May Parker.”

“Ma’am,” Bucky murmured, shaking her hand.

May rose her eyebrows and Darcy would have usually smirked at such a reaction except she knew Bucky was on edge.

“Peter’s on his way. He only had a half-day.”

“Yeah, he texted me,” Darcy murmured.

They followed May inside and they sit on the couch, May asking if she can get them anything. Bucky barely murmured declining.

Darcy got up and followed May out, glancing at Bucky over her shoulder. He seemed to be staring into space again.

“Maybe we should step out for a little while?” she whispered, and May looked confused.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, uh – I think it’s too much. I dragged Bucky along today to see someone else before,” Darcy whispered hastily as May filled the kettle to put on the stove.

“You dragged him kickin’ and screamin’?” she said with a small smile.

“No…” Darcy murmured. “But…”

“He’s fine. You’re fine. Peter will be home soon and you can stay for dinner.”

Darcy stopped herself from openly wringing her hands and sighed.

“Okay. But – please don’t mention anything like, well, I dunno. Tony Stark-related?”

May’s eyes widened.

“Why would -? Oh, don’t tell me –”

“I’m not telling you anything, except shush,” Darcy hissed, hand up.

May looked like she was trying not to laugh as she made tea. By the time they went back to the couch, the front door was opened and Peter walked in, his face lighting up.

“Hey, Darce!”

He walked over and pulled her into a hug, before spotting Bucky.

“Mister – I mean, Bucky. Hi, Bucky.”

Bucky stood up, taking Peter’s hand to shake.

“What’re you guys doin’ here, anyway?” Peter murmured, glancing from Bucky to Darcy.

“We saw Stephen. Stephen Strange,” Darcy said.

May’s eyebrows hiked and she pointed behind her. “I’ve got a – I should – the roast for later…”

She left them to it, and Darcy sensed Bucky wasn’t feeling talkative again.

“What’d Doctor Strange want?” Peter asked. He sounded suddenly uneasy.

“We told him about… the dreams.”

Peter laughed, shaking his head.

“He’ll think you’re both… crazy.”

Darcy didn’t wait for Bucky to step in.

“We think it’s the Soul Stone. We went somewhere when we dusted, maybe some metaphysical –”

“You said somethin’ about shrooms last time we talked about this, Darce,” Peter said with a little laugh, and Darcy put her hands on her hips.

“Why are you dismissing this? Strange knows about the Mystical Arts. He said we couldn’t prove it but –”

“What can’t you prove?” Peter asked Bucky, and Darcy cut herself off, sighing.

“That we were all together somewhere for five years,” Bucky muttered.

He didn’t look happy. If anything, he looked defeated.

“You don’t think we were?” Peter said.

“I know we were,” Bucky retorted. “I wish it wasn’t me.”

Darcy felt her heart sink and she turned to him, trying to touch his face.

“What did I do? What did I do?” she whispered, and he moved back, holding her wrists.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Darcy snapped, and Peter made a face.

“Dude…”

“I killed Stark’s parents, okay?” Bucky said, his voice low. “I can’t fix that. And I spend five years with you and Peter. That ain’t right.”

“What are you talking about, I love you!” Darcy said, and he looked pained. “I don’t care about that.”

“You should. Goddamn it, I can’t be the guy on the beach in your dreams. I’m this.”

He gestured to his left arm.

“Things aren’t perfect. Nowhere near it.”

“Bucky –”

He took off and Darcy froze. She felt like she’d been hit in the gut and she threw out an arm to stop Peter following him.

“Let him go.”

“Why?” Peter hissed.

The front door slammed.

“It’s too much. I pushed him too hard. He’s right. I can’t pretend we’re on that beach. I’m in Queens, for Christ’s sake,” Darcy muttered. Her eyes stung and she sniffled.

“Queens isn’t the worst place to be,” Peter said, a little hurt.

May sauntered in, hands up.

“Who’s slammin’ my door?” she said, and then her face fell. “Darcy?”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I – I thought he’d… I thought…”

She thought it over, and then she put her face in her hands.

She’d just said she loved Bucky.

On the hotel balcony now, she polishes off her glass of wine, feeling her cheeks warming from the liquor, her red eyes feeling heavier.

She’s foolish. Nothing new.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hate messy miscommunication but we're almost at the end! We're like... this close to happiness, we just have a couple idiots in love. 
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	13. Part Thirteen: Don't tell her you love her

_It's just like heaven being here with you_  
_You're like an angel, too good to be true_  
_But after all, I love you, I do_

\- "Angel Baby" by Rosie and the Originals

 

 

**Part Thirteen: Don't tell her you love her**

 

 

Darcy leaves her hotel room and makes it back to Queens the next morning.

She has a headache and the coffee she grabbed on her way hasn’t sunk in yet. She feels grumpy, and a little battered, emotionally speaking. All of last night she kept thinking about how she acted yesterday and how stupid she’d been. She and Bucky hardly know each other, at least by the standards of this plane.

She dreamt about him last night.

-

Her dream was a memory of the first time they met on the beach. She dropped the shell in the sand when she moved to shake Bucky’s hand. Everything felt warm, but Darcy didn’t feel as though she would sweat. Even the breeze had a languid feel to it. The earth seemed to breathe easy, slowly.

“How long have you been here?”

“I have no idea,” Bucky replied, and Darcy nodded.

“Yeah, me neither.”

Darcy’s eyes swung to the ocean in front of them and she closed her eyes, breathing in.

“It’s so peaceful here.”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, and she opened her eyes, seeing he’d copied her, breathing steadily with his eyes shut.

“H-hello?”

Darcy turned her head to a see a boy running toward them. He rose a hand to wave awkwardly, laughing.

“I, uh – Hi. I’m-I’m Peter Parker,” he said.

Darcy smiled. “I’m Darcy.”

“Bucky,” Bucky said.

“This place is – wow. Where are we?” Peter asked.

The question didn’t feel urgent. Darcy looked at the water again.

“Dunno.”

“Oh,” Peter replied, looking at Bucky and then Darcy. “Are you guys… together? Like, married?”

Darcy glanced at Bucky, assessing.

“I don’t… think so,” she murmured. “I mean, I think I’d remember.”

“Me, too,” Bucky said to her. “I… would be happy with you.”

Darcy smiled, and then she remembered Peter standing there.

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Anyone else around here?” she asked.

There was a distant tinkling sound and Darcy looked toward the source, seeing a shack on stilts up the hill behind them. The sound seemed to be coming from the wind chime that hung by the front door.

“That your place?” Peter asked Darcy.

“Could be.”

Darcy decided to walk up, hearing Bucky follow her. She saw Peter staying behind, looking at the shells in the sand. When she reached the shack, she pushed open the front door, glancing around.

There was a couch and a little kitchen, and then a room to the side with a bed.

“This feels like… I dunno. I’m not sure if it’s mine,” she murmured.

Her fingers run along the bedspread, feeling the clean linen as Bucky looked at the bookshelf in the corner.

“Any of these books yours?” he asked.

Darcy walked over, running her fingers along several spines.

“ _Harry Potter_?” he read aloud. “I don’t know that one.”

That surprised Darcy. “Really? Why?”

“Don’t know it.”

“How many _Harry Potters_ are there?” he asked, and he counted. “Seven? Oh.”

Darcy smirked, and his eyes met hers, smiling back at her.

“What? Do I sound dumb?”

“No,” she said, softer. “You’re so cute.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

Things escalated quickly from there. He moved closer to her, his head dipping to meet hers, his body framing hers, gently pressing her into the bookshelf.

“I’m trapped,” she whispered. She tilted her head, coaxing him.

She could feel his breath on her mouth, his two eyes becoming one. She brushed her nose against his, a slow smile forming on her face.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was slow and intense. Darcy felt her cheeks heat as he tilted his head, their mouths meeting together again and again, his tongue slipping between her lips. Darcy’s hands gripped the material of his shirt, trailing down to tug at the hem of it.

It took only a couple seconds to get it off, and then he was back to kissing her. The first time he moaned he almost startled her. They were otherwise very quiet, soft little gasps between them.

Darcy’s hands glided over his chest, feeling the hard muscles, feeling how warm he was all over. He was so inviting to touch, kissing her harder, their hips bumping.

When he finally pulled back, he kissed her face, his hands stroking her cheek and hair.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his mouth wet. “Can I…?”

She nodded, wanting to say yes to everything. She kissed him, her hands going to his belt buckle to undo it, her hands not moving quite fast enough for her liking.

“Don’t slow down,” she murmured, and he let out a breath of a laugh, nodding.

She managed trail her hand down and under the waistband of his boxers, sliding her hand to grip his shaft, pumping him. Bucky huffed, another moan escaping, louder than before.

It made her wet, that sound. He kissed her, pushing her harder into the shelf, her breath hitching as he moved his mouth down her jawline to her neck. His beard scratched her, making her shiver as he rocked against her hand in his jeans.

He felt thick in her hand, and she wanted him now – she moaned as he bit her neck, his hands fumbling for her leggings to pull them down.

He moved back to help her tug them off completely, her underwear included, and his eyes went to the apex of her thighs. He gathered her in his arms again and spun them around, moving toward the bed.

How had Darcy not noticed that neither of them were wearing shoes? She was distracted for a second and he pulled back from another kiss, looking down at her in his arms. His hand trailed up and down her arm, down her ribs to her waist and then her naked hip, his eyes roving her.

His eyes rested between her legs again and Darcy felt a thrill run through her and she kissed him again, harder than before, grabbing him by the shaft of his cock to make her point. There was more fumbling between them and they soon lay naked chest to chest, one of his hands cradling her face, the other lining himself up to her, Darcy’s thigh resting on his hip.

He worked himself inside her slowly, both of them gasping until he was fully sheathed. They kissed slower, clumsy as his hips began to grind.

“How’re you doin’?” he murmured, and Darcy remembered they hadn’t spoken for a few minutes.

The air felt charged, their eyes locked.

“Good. I’m so good,” she whispered. “You?”

“Yeah… _fuck_ ,” he whispered.

His cheeks were pink. His pace picked up and Darcy tilted her hips, her eyes widening.

“That feels – that feels so good,” she gasped.

Her orgasm felt like a physical blow, her hand pressing Bucky’s finger precisely where she wanted it on her clit as he took her in long, hard strokes. When she came, she threw her head back, her eyes fluttering shut at the last second.

She laughed at the end of it, twitching around him and he chuckled, sounding out of breath. Feeling inspired, Darcy dug her heel into his ass, bringing him down in a rough kiss.

She could tell he was close, his moans were more frequent and his hips were beginning to lose rhythm. He panted into her skin.

“Is it okay if I – can I come inside you? Can I?”

“Yeah,” Darcy whispered, smiling. “Come for me.”

It seemed to embolden him and he snapped his hips, his pace growing to a punishing speed and Darcy giggled, feeling her whole body jerking and shuddering against his with every beat of their flesh.

“Holy… _shit_ ,” he moaned and he came with a shudder, bucking into her until he had to stop while Darcy kissed his sweaty face again and again.

He moved back, pushing the hair away from her face, his own long hair curtaining them and he smiled down at her.

-

She reaches the parking lot where they left the Jeep yesterday. She hasn’t heard from Bucky at all, which was unsurprising. As far as she knew, he didn’t have a cell phone. She has no idea whether he’d hitch back to the compound. She spots him leaning against the bonnet of the car, his arms folded. He was the one who had the car keys.

She folds her arms, stopping a few feet away from him, feeling her throat tighten when their eyes met.

“I fucked up,” Bucky says.

“Yeah,” she replies. “Big time.”

He nods, looking at the ground.

“I thought I’d feel better if I got away, but I missed you.”

Darcy feels her eyes sting. She took a deep breath, readying herself.

“It hurts,” he said, touching his chest with his vibranium hand. “I felt it here when we’re not together. I thought it would stop if I ran away, but it just got worse.”

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing.

“I’m so sorry.”

Darcy can’t help herself. “You’re a dumbass.”

“Yeah, I’m certifiable,” he says, and he sounds frustrated. “I’ll understand if you want to stop seein’ me, if you want me to get back to the compound by myself.”

Darcy frowns, a pause between them. She unfurls her arms and places her hands on her hips.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes,” he says. He didn’t have to think about it.

She stares at him. Through the haze of her own hurt feelings, she feels relief. If he was anyone else, she would have moved on by the morning.

“When did you know?” she asks, her voice quieter.

“From the moment when you jumped out of the truck with Jane and asked Steve where you could stow everything.”

_You got a place we can put our shit?_

“Bucky, you hardly knew me then,” she says, and he tilts his head. “You know what I mean.”

She lets her eyes dip to his gloved hand.

“This is the most you’ve ever said about… how you feel,” she murmurs.

“Yeah. I wish I could – do yesterday all over again. Get it right,” he mutters. “Not be a selfish asshole.”

Darcy nods. She takes a deep breath and holds out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Darcy.”

He blinks a couple times, and then he pushes off the bonnet to take her hand in his.

“Bucky.”

“What’s that short for?” Darcy asks, smiling.

“Buchanan. It’s my middle name,” he replies. He smiles back, but not as wide as her.

“You from around here?” she asks.

“Brooklyn.”

“Oh,” she replies.

Her chest feels tighter and she gives in, moving toward Bucky to hug him, feeling his arms wrap around her. She whimpers when he kisses her face.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so, so sorry…”

When she moves back he looks like he’s trying not to cry. She kisses his mouth, a couple pecks, her thumbs wiping away his tears as they start to fall.

“I’m fucked up.”

“Who isn’t?” she whispers back.

“Darcy, I mean it. I’m not right for you. I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ve already hurt you.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and she kisses his temple.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I love you…”

-

They stand in front of the tenement building, reading the plaque beside the front door.

“Do you have to pay the adult fee or do you get the senior discount?” Darcy asks, smirking at him.

His eyes swivel to her face and he tries to look annoyed and fails.

“You’re cheeky.”

“Hmm,” Darcy replies.

The building Steve and Bucky grew up in was turned into a historical sight in the 1970’s, according to the plaque. Darcy fished out some coins to give to the woman at the front desk in the foyer. It was pretty quiet, only a few people wandering around to look at photographs and little snippets of information about Captain Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes.

Darcy keeps glancing over at Bucky as they walk around, holding hands.

“How does this feel, being here?” she murmurs.

Bucky thinks, pausing at a portrait of Steve standing with his mother Sarah in the 1920s. They both have the same smile, the same light hair.

“Different. I mean, I know it’s been a while. I thought I’d be sadder if I ever came back.”

“Except?” Darcy says, and he squeezes her hand.

“Except you’re here with me. Makes it better,” he says.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Ali Wong voice] you a dumbass
> 
>  
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	14. Part Fourteen: Don't stay with her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you read the last part? Make sure you did. Even though I convinced myself to hold off finishing this story today, I couldn't help myself. I'm feeling very, very sappy.

_Because the last time you let yourself feel this way_   
_It was a long, long time ago_   
_And now we get so scared, and we get so scared_   
_To be nowhere left alone_

\- "Now or Never Now" by Metric

 

 

**Part Fourteen: Don't stay with her**

 

 

“You believe in soulmates?”

“Absolutely,” Bucky replies, and Sam’s eyebrows hike. “What, you expectin’ somethin’ else?”

Darcy is laughing in the distance with Jane, bending at her middle and clutching her stomach. She bumps her friend’s shoulder with her forehead. Sam and Bucky are sitting on the grass. Darcy turns toward the men and raises her hand to wave.

“She’s it. She is… it,” Bucky murmurs, and Sam smiles.

“I’m happy for you, man.”

“What are you guys doing?” Darcy says as she wanders over, hands on her hips. “You gonna sit around all day or get back to work?”

“Takin’ a break,” Bucky replies, and her eyebrows quirk.

“You seen Peter?”

“Probably swinging around somewhere out back,” Sam replies.

Darcy offers Bucky her hand and he takes it, standing up again. He has to try every day to fight the fears inside – that he’s not good enough, that he’s bad for Darcy. She tells him often enough how happy he makes her. He’s trying. He’s really, really trying.

They start to walk away from Sam and Darcy squeezes Bucky’s vibranium hand a couple times. He glances down at her, stopping.

“Hop on.”

He crouches and Darcy launches herself onto his back with a giggle.

“You two are disgusting!” Sam calls after them and Darcy waves before she cuddles Bucky from behind, kissing the back of his head as they trek down the hill.

Piggy-backing his girl around the new Avengers facility, now isn’t that a nice thought?

“Let’s go find Peter,” he murmurs, and Darcy gives a happy little sigh against him.

Turns out Peter is swinging around, but all in the name of construction. He’s currently painting the lab ceiling with Banner’s help. Darcy jumps off Bucky’s back when he halts inside, her hands going to her hips as she stares up at Peter.

“Hey, Petey, I hope you don’t think you’re being paid for this.”

Peter glances down, smiling at Darcy.

“Wouldn’t want you guys to break any child labor laws,” he jokes.

Seconds later, he lands on the floor, flicking some paint on Darcy’s shoe by accident. Thankfully, there are plastic sheets everywhere to save the floor from the same fate.

“You did that on purpose!” Darcy cries, snatching the paintbrush from him and swiping at his face with it.

“Hey!”

Darcy ducks out, Peter chasing after her. Banner starts to laugh as Darcy can be heard screaming bloody murder in the distance.

-

“Strange sent me a new article,” Darcy says, and Bucky cranes his head to read her phone over her shoulder.

Darcy watches his pretty blue eyes scanning the screen, blinking every so often, his face changing.

“Whoa.”

“There are people out there like us,” Darcy says, pointing at the screen. “And not just people falling in love. Brothers finding long-lost brothers. Blood relatives and friendships. People have memories of when they were dusted.”

She read the article only moments ago but this was the fourth of its kind she’d read, more or less confirming their beliefs, that their experiences were real. It wasn’t some coincidence that they remembered the same beach.

Over the last few months, people were writing and sharing their own stories online. She didn’t expect there to be a lot of scientific studies. It was the same as people who had vivid memories of a past life they couldn’t prove. She only cared about how much she trusted her mind, and she knew she did fully.

“That’s incredible,” Bucky murmurs, and Darcy smiles.

He turns his head and kisses her forehead.

-

The dreams are less frequent. Bucky doesn’t know why they’re starting to leave him. He writes some of them down, the ones he can still remember.

It’s like grief. He wants to bargain his way into remembering everything, but he knows it’s futile. Eventually, he won’t be able to recall every moment in the Soulscape.

He has to make new memories with Darcy, because the Stones are gone – they’ve been gone months now, and he’s feeling braver.

-

Darcy believes it’s better than her imagination or her dreams because it’s not perfect.

He loves her exactly how she is.

-

“Why the three of us?” Peter asks one night when they’re sitting in front of a bonfire, the teenager on his left while Darcy was sitting on his right.

“I have theories,” Darcy says, and Bucky smiles at her so she smiles back. “What if… it’s not chance?”

“Why me with you two guys, then?” Peter said. “No offence, but I’m not part of… this.”

He gestures at them both, making a face.

“This… kidney donor pact?” Darcy suggests, and Peter rolls his eyes, not laughing.

“You know what I mean.”

“I think...” Bucky begins, and Darcy’s eyes shift to meet his. “We weren’t all meant to remember being dusted. I think we were all a little lost.”

Bucky knows he was happy in Wakanda, but his life had been put on hold. Peter had lost his parents and uncle, and he was only just beginning to understand what it meant to fight as Spider-Man. Darcy lived her life with such urgency, constantly changing, never keeping still.

“Maybe,” Peter murmured. “Not everyone remembers bein’ dusted, is all.”

They couldn’t explain that. Neither could they explain how some people _felt_ half the world leave five years ago, when others didn’t. Jane was one of those people, but Banner wasn’t and so on.

“I feel like I’ve known both of you from the start,” Darcy whispers, and Bucky glances at Peter, watching the boy reach out and squeeze Darcy’s hand. “I don’t want to forget.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	15. Part Fifteen: Don't believe in paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to SebastianStanIsMySmallBean for the wonderful prompt. Thank you to every single one of you for reading this story. Sometimes I just want to write a happy ending.

_Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same._

- Emily Brontë

 

 

 

**Part Fifteen: Don't believe in paradise**

 

 

It hurts.

It’s a good kind of hurt, like seeing that time has passed but you’re happy you got that far. You’re happy you managed to make it this far. You’re happy because you’re with exactly who you’re supposed to be.

Darcy flips through an old notebook, finding it full of words in Bucky’s hand, and she frowns.

_A beach and the sun never sets._

Oh. That beach from their dreams. She hadn’t thought of the Soulscape in the longest time. That was one of the roughest years of human existence, no exaggeration whatsoever. Darcy calls it the Soulscape while Strange still calls it the Soul Realm. He never remembered being dusted like Darcy did. She suspected Stephen was a little jealous, but it was no longer as relevant.

_A woman who smiles at me. Darcy under a sheet, smiling at me. My hands – both my hands are there. She laughs up at me when I make love to her. She kisses me like we’re made to touch one another. I love her so completely I am captivated by her every move. She wakes beside me, so full of love, and everything is orange._

Darcy feels tears spring in her eyes. She’s never read this before. It might be private, but it was sitting on the bookshelf beside _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ and she assumed it was just another notebook she stashed there years ago.

“Darce?”

She hears Bucky walk in, sounding concerned. She glances at him, the book still in her hands. A few tears spill over and he moves toward her, realization dawning on his face as he looks down at the notebook she holds.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and Darcy presses her lips together, her chin quivering.

She sniffles. “I forgot.”

“I did, too.”

He pulls her into an embrace, lifting her up a couple inches from the floor like always, kissing her. He places her back on the floor and Darcy wipes her eyes, both of them looking at his notes.

_She is everything. I am whole. I am free._

Darcy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Jesus, you’re such a romantic, Barnes,” she murmurs.

She flips the page, seeing the same three words over and over, lines and lines of them.

_I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her…_

She looks up at him again, her eyes filling with fresh tears. She brings him into a kiss, the notebook between them.

They don’t let go of each other for quite some time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you 3000
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


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